


THE SAME OCEAN BLUE EYES

by dancermk



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Adoption, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Discussion about rape, Drama, Fat Shaming, Fluff, Gay Parents, Happily Married, Homophobic Language, Husbands, Ian and Mickey as dads, Jealous Ian Gallagher, Jealous Mickey Milkovich, Light BDSM, Loving Husbands, M/M, Mention of Death, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Sex Toys, Sexual Content, Smut, Tragedy, Violence, canon divergent after 10x12, mention of rape, season 11 gallavich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:00:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 48,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22753645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancermk/pseuds/dancermk
Summary: THIS FIC IS NOW COMPLETE - HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!!Ian and Mickey have been married for six months and are enjoying each other in their new apartment when they get a knock on the door.  Suddenly they have a life changing decision to make.  Will Ian get the family he always wanted?EXTRACT:Ian looked at the dugouts, the memories rushing in all at once.  The first time they had fucked there, they had still been boys.  He remembered how full of hope he’d been about joining the army.  Already crazy in love with Mickey.  Then the second time, only a few years later, all remnants of childhood innocence already lost.  Trying to find their way back to each other, only to have it snatched away hours later.  He realised Mickey was studying him.  He pulled his eyes off the dugout and back to his husband.“Right there with you, Firecrotch,” Mickey said, voice soft.He felt tears prickle at his eyes hearing the old nickname.  Mickey didn’t use it much anymore, but it never failed to make him sentimental.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 243
Kudos: 600





	1. Expecting Anyone Gallagher?

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated!

Ian had Mickey bent over the dining room table as he thrust into him with everything he had. Married sex was fucking awesome, and they had been going at it day and night for the last six months. Ian’s wedding band had a strange effect on women and he was constantly getting hit on – in the supermarket, on the L, at work, just about everywhere. The upside to this was that Mickey was a possessive bitch, and every time it happened Mickey would drag him home and fuck him senseless. So maybe at this point he might have been encouraging it. He had no idea why Mickey would bother getting jealous over a woman, but it was what it was. 

“Oh fuck Ian right there, right theeeerre,” Mickey yelled out as he hit his sweet spot. Mickey had also become a noisy fucker since they got their own apartment a few months ago. 

“Yeah you like that Mick?” Fuck his husband felt good. He pulled out and hauled Mickey up off the table, turned him around and dragged him down onto the floor with him.

Ian growled at Mickey. “Fuckin’ ride me Gallagher.”

Mickey lined himself up and stopped with just the head of Ian’s cock pressing against his hole. Mickey looked down at him, a glint in his eyes and a smirk on his face. “That’s Milkovich to you,” Mickey challenged.

“It’s Gallagher! I fuckin’ own your ass. You’re mine and you know it.” And with that he grabbed hold of Mickey’s hips and thrust up into him.

Mickey let out a deep moan as Ian’s cock filled him up again. Mickey started riding him hard, bouncing up and down on his husband’s shaft as he jerked himself off. 

“Firecrotch, you’ve become a possessive bitch since we got hitched,” Mickey countered.

“You fuckin’ love it Mick.”

“I fuckin’ love you. Switch .”

Ian grabbed hold of Mickey’s ass, lifted him up and flipped them over laying Mickey under him. Mickey immediately wrapped his legs around him as he resumed his thrusting.

“Love you too.” He leant forward over Mickey and captured his mouth in a kiss. Mickey slid his tongue into his mouth and Ian sucked on it desperately.

“Ian gonna cum….fuck …Ian…shit.” Ian could feel Mickey pulsing around his cock as he orgasmed, cum spurting over their stomachs. It was fucking ecstasy. Ian felt himself explode inside Mickey as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through his body. Ian collapsed over Mickey, completely spent. 

They lay there on the kitchen floor catching their breath before Mickey complained, “Too fuckin’ heavy Ian, you gotta get off.”

Ian pulled out, dragged himself up to standing and went searching of his discarded shirt.

“Hurry the fuck up or I’m gonna leak your cum all over the kitchen floor,” Mickey yelled at him. Such an impatient husband Ian mused, rolling his eyes. He returned to the kitchen throwing Mickey the shirt so he could clean himself up. He was just putting his boxers on when there was a loud knock at the door. 

“Who the fuck’s that? You expecting anyone Gallagher?” Mickey asked, as he pulled on his own boxers.

“Nope,” he replied to Mickey before yelling toward the door. “Just hang on a minute.”

They both pulled on their pants and Mickey put his shirt on. A second, more insistent knock came from the door.

“Mick you get it, I need to find a shirt.”

Ian headed off into the bedroom as Mickey went to the door. He heard Mickey open the door and speak to whoever was there. “Can I help you with somethin’?”

“Hello, yes, are you Mr. Mikhailo Milkovich?”

Ian made his way towards the front door, seeing a man in a suit and a little boy beside him that looked to be about six or seven years old. 

Mickey turned to him, frown on his face and obviously wondering if he should lie to this dude or not.

Mickey turned back to the man, “Who wants to know?”

“I’m Roger Buckley. I’m with DHS and it’s extremely important that I speak to Mr. Milkovich as soon as possible.”

Ian was studying the little boy and getting a funny feeling in his stomach. The boy had blondish-light brown hair and ocean blue eyes. He had been crying and looked incredibly tired and scared. Ian squatted down so he was eye level with the boy.

Mickey must have decided it was OK to reveal his identity and replied, “Yeah I’m Mickey Milkovich. What’s this about?”

At the same time Ian asked the little boy, “You OK? What’s your name?”

The little boy answered in a whisper, “I’m Yev.”

Ian looked at Mickey, then back at Yev, then back at Mickey. He could see Mickey was about to freak the fuck out. The DHS guy was talking to Mickey but all Ian could hear was random words and partial sentences – “Svetlana”, “passed away”, “car accident”, “husband doesn’t want”, “biological father”, “custody”.

Mickey finally started talking, well almost yelling as the panic set in. “What the fuck are you talking about? Ian what the fuck is he talking about? What, you want to leave him here? Now?”

Yev started crying and Ian didn’t know who to help first. He gently placed his hand on Yev’s head to try and comfort him as he turned to Mickey. “Mick you need to calm down for a minute. We’ll sort it out but Yev is getting upset.” He pulled Mickey into a hug, cradling the back of his head, trying to calm him while keeping his other hand on Yev.

Ian turned to the DHS guy. “Can you give us a few minutes to talk please? This is a lot to take in.” The guy nodded, and then he led Mickey into their bedroom and sat him on the bed. All the colour had drained from his face. 

“Mick, we need to talk about it,” Ian prompted him gently.

Mickey looked up at him. “Well you said you wanted a kid.”

“You don’t need to make a final decision right now. We need time to think about it. But that is your son out there and his Mom just died and you and I both know that shipping him off to foster care will fuck him up even more.”

Mickey rubbed his hands over his face as the reality of the situation started to sink in. “Shit Ian, he doesn’t even remember us. We’re just strangers to him.”

“Doesn’t mean it has to stay that way. Mick, I know you loved him once and I know she stopped bringing him to visit you in jail, but try and think of this as a second chance. Just cos we have shit fathers doesn’t mean we have to be.”

Ian already knew that he wanted Yev. How could he not? He had loved that baby so much. He had always wanted Yev to be theirs. A wave of guilt washed over him. Had his thoughts brought about this tragedy? 

“Mick, why don’t we ask Roger if he can stay here while we decide what to do?”

‘Fuck Ian, this scares the living shit of me,” Mickey said, as he stood up. 

Ian wrapped his arms around his husband then placed a kiss to his forehead. “We’re in this together; you’re not going to do this alone. Come on let’s go speak to Roger.”

Ian led them back to front door where they found both Roger and Yev sitting down, leaning against the wall. Ian had to admit that Roger was being pretty patient about this.

Ian took the lead. “Roger we’d like to take Yev on a temporary basis if that’s possible?”

Roger stood up and turned to Ian. “Yes that’s fine I can release him to Mr Milkovich on temporary custody. There’s a lot of paperwork anyway, and the process is quite detailed. But we’d obviously like to see him placed with family during this difficult time. I believe the funeral is on Friday. Here are the contact details for Svetlana’s husband so you can arrange to pick up more of Yev’s belongings and get the details of the funeral.” Roger turned to Mickey with a clipboard and pen. “Can you sign here that you are taking custody?”

Mickey took the pen and signed. Ian noticed that Mickey and Yev had been staring at each other, both looking equally hesitant.

Roger took the forms back and turned to Yev. “Yev this is Mickey. He is your biological father and you can stay with him for a while. I will be back to visit again soon.”

Yev nodded at the man. Ian reached out and gently ushered the boy into the house. Mickey grabbed his small suitcase of belongings. They thanked Roger and closed the door. 

Ian crouched down in front of Yev. “Hey buddy would you like something to eat?” Yev nodded and they headed into the kitchen. Ian sat his two boys down as he got to work making pancakes. When he looked over at them he was struck by their likeness. Not so much their looks – although they shared the same ocean blue eyes – but by their expressions and their body language. 

Later that night, after Yev had eaten and they had watched some cartoons, they all went to bed. They decided it would be best if he slept in with them rather than on the couch in a strange place. The poor boy had struggled to keep the tears at bay and Ian’s heart broke for him. But he could tell that he was strong like Mickey. 

Yev was lying between them on the bed while Ian played a bed-time story from YouTube. They would have to get some books soon. Mickey was gently stroking the hair back off his little boy’s forehead. Ian watched Yev reach out to Mickey and grab onto his hand before surrendering to sleep. He watched love spread through Mickey like wildfire. He smiled at his husband. They were going to be just fine.


	2. The Ice Cream Parlour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey and Ian start to settle into their new life with Yev.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone - I hope you are all safe and healthy in this crazy world we now live in!  
> Finally a second chapter - sorry it took so long to continue it - I was trying to finish 'Shall we Dance?' first.  
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!!

Ian was exhausted. They were seated outside the school office waiting to see the office lady. Hopefully she wasn’t the same cranky old bitch from when he was last here. Yev’s arrival on Monday night was a walk in the park compared to yesterday. Poor Yev had woken up crying for his Mom at 6 am and wanted to go home. Mickey became flustered and overwhelmed, leaving him to calm the little boy while Mickey went outside for a smoke. 

They both called into work saying they needed two days off while they figured this shit out. Mickey helped Yev get dressed and Ian made them breakfast before heading off to Svetlana’s address. They took the L as far as they could, then grabbed an Uber so Yev didn’t have to walk. What they found was a 90-something year old fucker in a wheelchair in a goddamn mansion. Svet had been living the dream. Well, if she didn’t have to service the dude! 

Yev had hugged the housekeeper with all his might, then run off to his room on the second floor. Talking to the old fucker’s son-David, they got the details for the funeral on Friday before Mickey exploded in a fit of rage over the family’s treatment of Yev. He had stepped in before Mickey punched the guy, reminding him that at least they were giving Svetlana a proper burial. He suggested Mickey go upstairs and see Yev’s room while he took care of this self-entitled fuck. Which he did; Yev’s clothes and toys were to be delivered to their apartment later in the day. You don’t fuck with a Gallagher and you sure as shit don’t want to fuck with a Milkovich. The way Ian saw it, he was doing the guy a favour.

As suspected, Yev had been attending an expensive private school, and Ian was dreading telling the boy he would have to change to their local shithole one. Mickey finally emerged from upstairs with a distraught Yev holding a large stuffed toy dinosaur…

_“Mick, is Yev ok?” he asked._

_“Does he look fuckin’ ok to you Gallagher?” Mickey replied, eyebrows suspended in his hairline. “He doesn’t want to leave and who could blame him. Look at all this fancy shit.”_

_Ian squatted down next to a tearful Yev. “Hey Yev, I know this is hard, but all your toys and stuff will be sent to our place later today. It will be ok. My Mom died too, so I know how you feel.”_

_Yev looked up at him, tears still rolling down his cheeks. “Your Mom died too?”_

_“Yeah she did, and it’s real hard for a while. It’s ok to cry and you should talk about her whenever you want.” Ian reached out and rubbed his back. “Hey, who is this guy?” he asked touching the dinosaur Yev held tightly to his chest._

_“This is Rex. He’s really sad right now and needs a hug,” Yev replied._

_“Well you’re doing an awesome job looking after him. Mickey-I mean your Dad-and I, will look after you.”_

_Ian stood up, communicating silently with Mickey as they studied each other. Mickey turned to David. “You got a photo of Lana for the boy?”_

_“Ahh yes, hang on a minute.” David replied exiting the room. Upon his return, he passed a framed photo of Svetlana to Mickey. It was from the wedding day; it was a beautiful photo of her. Mickey took the frame with a nod of his head and then they were heading out the door._

_Later that night, surrounded by Yev’s toys and clothes scattered across the living room, Ian found Yev sitting pressed against Mickey’s side on the sofa as they looked at the photo. He didn’t interrupt, just quietly watched._

_“She loved you so much Yev, you know that right?”_

_“Are you my real Papa?” Yev peeked up at Mickey. “Mama said you were in prison because of carrot boy.”_

_“I was in prison, but I got out. What else did Mama say about me?” Mickey asked._

_“That you love carrot boy more than everyone else. Don’t you love me?” Yev’s brow furrowed as he chewed on his bottom lip just like his father._

_Ian watched Mickey turn his head away, struggling with what to say._

_“Love you Yev. Just haven’t had a chance to prove it yet. Ian loves you too. We used to all live together when you were a baby. You just don’t remember.” Ian could see them searching for answers in each other’s eyes. He wondered what it would feel like to see your own eyes staring back at you. A touch of jealousy fluttered in his chest._

_Mickey broke the spell. “Hey, let’s take a photo of this photo so wherever we go, you can look at her.”_

_Mickey took his cell phone out and snapped a photo before handing it to Yev to show him._

_“Tomorrow you need to start at a new school, and Ian and I are gonna get you a bed of your own. But for tonight you can sleep in with us again if you want?”_

_“OK Papa,” Yev replied, resting his head on Mickey’s arm. Ian felt a wave of emotions pour over him as he recalled Mickey holding baby Yev six years ago. So much had happened since then. People rarely got second chances in life, so he was going to do his damnedest not to fuck this one up._

*****

Mickey was watching his son as they sat outside the school office. Ian was watching Mickey. He didn’t want to send Yev to school four days after his mom passed away, but they couldn’t afford to be off work for too long, especially now they had Yev to provide for. The situation was bringing up unwanted memories of his own mother, and he knew Ian was struggling in the same way. He was worried about Ian. Even though he knew Ian wanted Yev, and for them to be a family, he was concerned the stress and change in routine could affect Ian’s bipolar. 

They’d only been married six months, and it felt too soon to be thrown into an instant family. He still wanted to fuck Ian morning and night, and he didn’t know how he felt about sharing his redhead or giving up their alone time. It had taken the better part of ten years to have it, and he relished in it. He knew he sounded like a douche-bag Dad for even thinking that way, but he couldn’t help himself. 

Did Yev even understand they were gay? Or what being gay meant? That they were married? Was he too young to understand? Would he get teased at school for having two Dad’s? He looked at Ian, their eyes met in a silent conversation. Ian would be pushing hard with questions the moment they left the school. Fuck!

“Yevgeny and Mr Milkovich, come in,” the office lady instructed. She was in her mid-30’s, with perfectly groomed hair, and an air of efficiency. They all rose from their chairs and followed her into the office, Yev slipping his hand into Ian’s. They sat, waiting for the lady to look up from her file.

“I’m Mary. I’m in charge of admissions and you are Mikhailo?” she questioned, unsure of the pronunciation.

“Just Mickey will be fine. This is my husband Ian,” he motioned to Ian who smiled and nodded. “And this is Yev.”

“Welcome to our school, Yev. You will love your new first grade teacher, Miss Berry,” Mary smiled at Yev before turning to look from Mickey to Ian. “Lovely to meet you both. After you called yesterday, I had Yevgeny’s records sent over from his previous school and I have met with Miss Berry to explain the sad circumstances. We will do everything we can to support Yev through this difficult time.” Mary sat back with a reassuring smile. 

Ian responded, “Thank you Mary, we appreciate it. Can you please call one of us if he gets upset?”

“Of course. But try not to worry, getting back into a routine will be good for him. How about you say your goodbyes and I will take Yev down to meet his teacher and classmates before the bell rings. Perhaps when you pick him up, you can introduce yourselves. He’ll be in room 23.” Mary stood up and headed for the door.

Mickey turned to his son, ruffling up his hair. “You’ll be ok bud. If anyone bothers you just kick their ass.”

“Jesus Mick, don’t tell him that. He doesn’t want to get in trouble on his first day,” Ian whispered as he looked past Mickey to see Mary’s reaction. Squatting down to Yev’s eye level, Ian held the boy by his shoulders. “Have a great day Yev, you’ll make lots of new friends. We’ll be here to pick you up from school and we’ll go for ice-cream.”

Mickey felt simultaneously inept and lucky. He loved that Ian was so good at this parenting shit, but he hated that he felt jealous of him. He wanted to do better.

“Love you Yev. See you after school,” he said as he pulled his son in for a quick hug before moving swiftly out of the office, emotion swelling in his chest. He could feel Gallagher’s goofy grin and puppy dog eyes following him out.

After leaving the school they made their way to the closest, and cheapest, furniture store to buy Yev a bed and a wardrobe for his clothes and toys. They had saved a little since the wedding, but this would probably clean them out. While they were wandering around the store, Ian couldn’t help himself.

“So what was going on in the office this morning? You having second thoughts about keeping Yev?” Ian questioned, stepping in front of him and eyeing him.

“What the fuck, Ian? Not having second thoughts just…it’s a lot. We just got married and we fuck all the time and I like being able to fuck all the time and does Yev know we’re gay and is he gonna have to deal with bullshit at school…and is this gonna fuck with your bipolar.”

“Hey, calm the fuck down Mick. One thing at a time. We can work through all that shit, just not in one day. When he goes to sleep tonight, we’ll have our first family meeting and get a plan in place. We need to think about moving to a two bedroom when our lease expires and see if Debbie and Tami can help with after school care. And then I promise to fuck you good and hard.” Ian smirked at him then pulled him in for a kiss, capturing his bottom lip. They hadn’t had sex in almost two days, so he seriously considered fixing his instant boner on one of the display beds.

When they pulled apart, Ian’s mind was back to the job at hand. “You sure Kev can pick this stuff up and deliver it today?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure. He said he can do it around 11. I think I like this one and that wardrobe over there,” Mickey said, pointing to the items.

“Perfect. Done. Let’s pay and get out of here so we can rearrange at home before Kev arrives with it.” 

*****

By the time they had assembled the bed and wardrobe it was after 1pm and they were starving. They had put the bed and wardrobe in the corner of the living area. Ian had suggested they put them in their bedroom, but dismissed the idea when he saw Mickey’s expression. And Mickey was right-if they were going to adjust to this, they needed time alone. Sex was necessary in their relationship. They did their best communicating in bed, on the couch, the table, the shower. It bound them together. 

Ian made them sandwiches while Mickey ate pringles. Annoyed, he snatched the packet off Mickey and replaced it with the sandwich.

“What the fuck? I was eating those,” Mickey mumbled, mouth still full of pringles.

“We’re parents now, we should start eating better. I want us to be better parents than ours were,” Ian explained.

“Next you’ll tell me I can’t smoke, drink or fuckin’ curse.”

“Yeah well some of that’s on the agenda for our meeting tonight,” Ian stated, unable to hide a smirk. While he was kidding, he thought maybe they needed to change some of their habits. One step at a time. 

“Fuck off Gallagher. Who did I marry? Fuckin’ orphan Annie?”

He slowly dragged Mickey’s dining chair towards him, the action immediately changing the mood between them.

Ian leaned forward, whispering into Mickey’s ear, “You know exactly who you fucking married.” Ian flicked Mickey’s ear lobe with his tongue before sucking it in between his lips.

“Ian…fuck...feels good,” Mickey moaned. He started unbuttoning Mickey’s pants as he kissed down his neck. Mickey’s hands shot up, grabbing his face and connecting their lips. Two days was too long. Their tongues were swirling together as he pulled Mickey’s pants and boxers down in one fluid motion. Dragging his lips away from Mickey’s he fell to his knees and pumped his husband’s cock as he licked into the slit and around the head. Mickey was already so hard for him. He palmed himself as he took all of Mickey into his mouth and started bobbing up and down. He could hear Mickey’s moans and felt his fingers rake through his hair. Two days was too long. He sucked hard, every so often twirling his tongue at the top to taste his husband. He moaned as he rolled Mickey’s balls in his hand.

“Ian can’t last. Need to cum.”

He looked up at Mickey. His head was thrown back and his eyes closed, biting his bottom lip. He hadn’t planned on it, but he pulled his own cock out and pumped furiously, unable to resist any longer. Two days was too long. Mickey looked down at him.

“Fuck Ian, you look so hot. Want it bad, don’t ya? Like my cock in your mouth.”

Mickey’s dirty talk pushed him over the edge, and he grunted hard as he started shooting in spurts onto the floor, his husband spilling into his mouth. Mickey was alternating between moans and curses as Ian milked him through his orgasm. When he popped off his husband’s cock, Mickey leant down and kissed him slow and deep.

“You know you’re still gonna fuck me good and hard tonight, right?” Mickey teased as Ian stood up, getting a slap across the ass.

“Was thinking you might reverse cowboy it after that spectacular blow job.” 

“We’re gonna need to get a fuckin’ lock on our door man,” Mickey said, before his tongue darted out to lick his lips.

*****

Mickey still had a smile on his face from his lunchtime surprise when they walked into the ice-cream parlour after school. They had met Miss Berry, a sweet 20-something girl who clearly loved the idea of two gay dads. She fawned over them and praised Yev’s academic ability. So far so good at school. Yev seemed happier having made a new friend named Clara, whom he couldn’t stop talking about. Perhaps Mary had been right. A routine was a good distraction for grieving children. They promised Yev they would organise a play-date with Clara as soon as possible. The little boy jumped up and down with excitement.

They sat outside in the sun eating their ice cream cones and Mickey felt himself relax into the idea of being a parent. He looked from Ian to Yev, taking in their smiles and equally childlike enjoyment of ice cream. His mind wandered back to the last time they were all together, maybe five years ago? His life was so fucking different back then. How did he get this lucky? 

“Papa, can we watch cartoons together when we get home?” Yev asked Mickey.

“Course we can bud. While you were at school, we got your bed set up, and a wardrobe for all your toys and shit,” Mickey replied, before receiving a frown from his husband. What the fuck? He wasn’t allowed to say ‘shit,’?

“Ian, can you watch too?” Yev didn’t wait for Ian to answer, but turned back to Mickey. “Is Ian my dad too? Do I have two dad’s?”

“Yeah, Ian is your Dad too. Ian and I are married,” Mickey explained, trying to keep it simple.

“Can I call Ian Daddy then, since you are Papa?” Yev looked uncertain, glancing nervously from Mickey to Ian and back to Mickey. 

Mickey could see his husband melt into a mountain of mush. His eyes were wide, his ice cream suspended in the air, his mouth open in surprise. His mind went to the sweet, innocent fifteen-year-old Ian he fell in love with. 

He turned to Yev. “I think Ian would love that. Why don’t you ask him?”

Yev looked at Ian, blue eyes wide. “Daddy, can you watch cartoons with me and Papa?”

Ian’s smile was so big it must have hurt. Mickey chuckled; his heart was full.

“I’d fucking love to!” Ian almost yelled, pulling Yev into a hug.

“Hey Gallagher, watch your fuckin’ language.”


	3. Family, Love, Nurture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the day of Svetlana's funeral, Ian, Mickey and Yev learn more about being a family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you, and your loved ones are healthy and safe!  
> This chapter required that Svetlana's death be addressed. Considering what's happening in the world right now I have tried to focus on how Ian and Mickey love and support each other (and now Yev) when times are tough. So love is the focus!  
> Kudos and comments EXTREMELY WELCOME! Add a comment and imagine me getting excited by my inbox! I'm easily pleased at the moment.  
> Take care, Rachael

Ian was trying to hold his shit together as they watched the coffin being lowered into the ground. The service had been elegant and reserved, but Yev was struggling. A burial always made things final. It was facing an undeniable truth. Ian still missed Monica every day, even though he barely spoke of it. The pain of losing your mother at six seemed like the worst kind of pain. He wanted to do right by Yev, so he could mourn openly and without guilt, something not afforded to him. 

Yev was standing in front of Mickey, silent tears rolling down his cheeks before disappearing into the green grass. Mickey had his hands on Yev’s shoulders, keeping their bodies pressed together in quiet consolation. 

“Yev,” he whispered, leaning over to look into the boy's eyes. “Is it too much? Do you wanna go?”

Yev reached out and took his hand, before nodding slowly. He looked to Mickey and then they slowly backed away from the gathering. Kev and Vee were in attendance and Ian knew they would relay their goodbyes, not that he gave a fuck about what these people thought. Once they were clear of everyone, Mickey swung Yev up onto his hip, and into a hug. Yev wrapped his little hands around the back of Mickey’s neck and laid his cheek on his shoulder. Yev was Mickey without the armour; all open and loving. He was what Mickey would have been like if he was raised right. Mickey would heal Yev. Maybe Yev could heal Mickey.

*****

Mickey was in the kitchen making hot cocoa for them. It seemed like something normal families did when something bad was happening. It felt unfamiliar, and he wondered if they pretended to be a normal family for long enough they would become normal. A long time had passed since the day both he and Ian had been present for Yev’s conception. It barely crossed his mind anymore. Somehow, their love had survived the un-survivable, and it served as a reminder that their love, their bond, was unbreakable. What he didn’t know, was if it was healthy to never speak of it. 

For Ian, loving Yev had been instantaneous. His husband had an enormous capacity to compartmentalize and when they were teenagers Ian had successfully separated Yev from his unspeakable beginnings. Svetlana had, too. It was only he that had struggled to see the innocence of Yev. To see that Yev had never partaken in Terry’s games. When Terry had gone back to prison after he came out, they had become a family of sorts. He had grown to love his son. But when Svet stopped bringing Yev to visit him in prison, he had done what any man would. He moved on. He survived.

Throwing away his freedom to return to Ian had been the biggest gamble of his life. A gamble that, surprisingly, paid off. Now if Terry would just fuck off and die he could finally relax. It wouldn’t be long before he found out about Yev, and after the bullshit at the wedding who knew what the fuckhead would do. He just wanted to enjoy their little life. He wanted to love Ian in peace. And now Yev too.

Mickey looked over at Ian and Yev sitting on the sofa watching a kid’s movie. The funeral had worn them all out. It would be early to bed tonight. He carried two mugs over and placed them on the coffee table before returning to grab his own. He could hear Ian reminding Yev to blow on it so he wouldn’t burn his tongue. He smiled to himself.

Taking a seat so Yev was between them, he ruffled his son’s hair. “Hey bud, how you doing? You nearly ready for bed?”

“Papa, is Mom in heaven? She isn’t trapped in that box is she?”

He looked at Ian, wondering how to answer. “Course she’s in heaven. She’s not trapped in the coffin. Her…like..soul has gone to heaven,” he replied.

“Daddy, do you think she’s in heaven too?” Yev asked, turning to look at Ian.

“I do. I think she will always be with you, you just can’t see her. You know you can talk about her whenever you want. We know you miss her. I still miss my Mom.”

“When did your Mom die? When you were little like me?”

“No, my Mom died about three years ago, but she wasn’t always around when I was a kid so I missed her a lot,” Ian answered.

Ian pulled out his cell and opened the photos folder. Mickey looked on in wonder when his husband clicked on a photo, revealing a baby Yev asleep on his chest. They were both asleep. Ian must have taken it without him knowing. Yev took the cell from Ian to look at it more closely. A big smile appeared across his face as he turned to face him. 

“Papa is that you and me as a baby?”

“Sure is. You were a noisy little shit. Sometimes that’s the only way you would go to sleep if your Mom and Ian were both at work. Then you’d shit your diaper and it would stink somethin’ bad.” 

Yev laughed. Like really laughed. It was the first time hearing him laugh and the sound of it filled the room. Ian reached his arm across the back of the sofa and squeezed his shoulder. He placed his hand over Ian’s for a second, their communication requiring no words.

“Ian, you got a photo of you and Yev on there too?”

“Got a few,” Ian replied scrolling through photos before selecting one and passing the cell back to Yev. “I like this one cos it’s the first selfie I took of you and me.” Yev was looking at the screen, zooming in on their faces. 

In the photo Ian was sitting down, with Yev’s back to his chest, one arm wrapped protectively around him. Ian was smiling and Yev was dribbling. It would have been obvious to anyone that Ian loved Yev. Mickey thought Ian looked like a proud parent, even if he was only seventeen. He hoped Yev could see that too.

Once Yev was asleep, they showered together. They did it a lot. Prison had stripped them of any boundaries; they would forever be comfortable taking a shit in front of each other. Showering in prison was about protecting each other, showering now was about nurturing each other. Their routine was automatic—he would wash Ian’s hair first then they would swap, then they would wash each other’s backs while they washed their own ‘fronts.’ Sometimes they would talk about trivial shit, other times they would be content with their own thoughts. Sometimes, they made out or gave each other a hand job and sometimes they didn’t. They met each other’s needs. Tonight, they were silent. Until they weren’t. 

“Mick, you ever miss your Mom? You never talk bout her.”

His hands stilled on Ian’s back as tried to collect his thoughts. “Truth is, I never think about her. I was pretty young when she ran off. Maybe seven or eight. Probably denial or some shit. Dealing with one fucked up parent is enough.”

Ian turned around to face him, eyes wet with emotion. “I miss Monica every fucking day.”

“I know.” He pulled Ian into his arms. Ian rested his head on his shoulder, and he cradled his husband’s head. They rocked under the warm water; their bodies pressed tight. He waited until Ian pulled away before speaking again. “It won’t be the same for Yev. Yeah, he’ll miss her. But it’s gonna be different for him—he’s gonna have two dads that love him. We didn’t even get one Ian.” He turned the taps off and stepped out of the shower, handing Ian his towel before grabbing his own. 

“I want Yev to talk about her. Remember her,” Ian said, drying himself off. “Too much shit goes unsaid Mick. Think of all the bullshit we could have avoided if we’d just been honest with each other.” Ian was getting himself worked up, words rushing out. “Mick, it took me nearly seven years to tell you I loved you. I loved you when I was fifteen.”

He reached up, cupping Ian’s jaw with one hand and placing the other hand on his hip. “Ian, you think I didn’t know you loved me?”

“It’s not the point. You needed to hear it. You deserved to hear it. I want us to be more open with Yev. Talk more. None of this masculine bullshit of ‘men don’t talk about their feelings,’” Ian said, doing his best hyper masculine voice.

He headed out of the bathroom with Ian close behind, turning around to face Ian once they were in their bedroom and the door was closed. “Jesus Ian, some men don’t want to talk, they just need to be left alone.”

“Yeah, I get that. But there’s gotta be a balance. And you’ve been doing way better at sharing your feelings lately. You told me you loved me, twice, in front of my whole family on our wedding day,” Ian said with a satisfied grin on his face.

“Fuck you. It was an emotional day.”

Ian grabbed him by the hips and pushed him back onto the bed, quickly straddling him and pinning his arms. 

“It was a beautiful fucking day.” 

Ian leant down, pressing their lips together gently before opening to welcome his tongue. Ian released his arms to cradle Mickey’s face as they licked into each other’s mouths. When they pulled apart, they gazed upon each other, mapping each other’s faces, gauging emotions.

“You as tired as I am, Gallagher?” he asked.

“Fucking beat.”

They climbed into bed, Ian switching off the nightlight. Ian gathered him into his arms, spooning him like always, their fingers entwined, and soft lips pressed against his neck. It was home.

He thought he would drift off quickly, but the longer he laid there the more uneasy he became. Thoughts of Svetlana’s car crash were filling his mind and putting fucking horrible ideas in his head. Before he knew it, it was Ian in that car. Ian dying. It would be no surprise to anyone that he worried about Ian. He had done a lot of crazy shit to protect his redhead. But losing him was unthinkable. Svet’s sudden death was a reminder that anyone could be wiped off the earth in a heartbeat. 

He turned around to face his husband. The light seeping in from the edges of the curtains enabled him to see the contours of his beautiful face. He pressed his lips to his forehead, then one cheek, then the other before Ian stirred. Ian’s arms instinctively pulled him in closer, a leg bending up to rest over his hip. He pressed small soft open-mouthed kisses to Ian’s lips. 

“Hey…Mick...what is it?” Ian asked, voice still thick with sleep.

He pulled Ian’s bottom lip between his and started sucking. While pressing his groin to Ian’s, he grabbed his husband’s ass so he could bring them closer together. Ian started kissing him back, tongues sliding against each other as they ground their pelvises together. 

“Mick, you ok?” Ian asked between kisses.

“Just need you man. Never want to lose you,” he moaned into Ian’s mouth, an intense lust overtaking him. “Need you in me.” He pulled his boxers off, Ian quickly following his lead. 

“Fuck, Mickey, need you too. Love you so fucking much,” Ian said, running his hands up and down his chest and thighs as Mickey climbed on top of his husband. Ian reached for the lube and began prepping him while they continued to make out. Mickey was rocking slowly, their cocks hard against each other. 

Unable to wait any longer, he sat up to lube Ian’s cock and eased himself down until fully seated. They both moaned loudly, savouring the connection. He placed his hands on Ian’s chest, while his husband planted his feet on the bed. They started slow, meeting each other halfway, eyes locked on each other. 

“Feel’s so good Ian. Always want this. Us.” He leant forward, needing their mouths connected too. They clawed at each other, wanting to be closer than their bodies would allow. Ian rolled them so he was on top and he surrendered to his husband, safe under his weight. Ian was thrusting into him deep and hard, their bodies creating friction on his leaking cock. He came untouched, Ian following seconds behind. Their moans fell into each other mouths as they kissed desperately through their orgasm’s. 

*****

After making love, they had settled back into sleep facing each other. Mickey had still been emotional, tucking his head in under Ian’s chin and tangling their legs together. 

Ian was woken later in the night by Yev lightly tapping him on the shoulder. The boy was clutching Rex to his chest, and he looked like he had been crying. 

“Yev, you ok?” Ian whispered, starting to sit up and waking Mickey in the process.

“I’m scared of the box. Had a nightmare,” he whispered back, eyes wide with fear.

“Bud what’s wrong,” Mickey said, rubbing his eyes trying to figure out what was happening.

“Yev had a nightmare,” he answered Mickey, before motioning to Yev. “Come on, jump in here with us.” He shuffled back to make room for Yev between them. Yev climbed in, still holding Rex to his chest. “Tell us about Rex. What sort of dinosaur is he?”

‘He’s a Tyrannosaurus Rex and he’s the strongest of all the dinosaurs. Sometimes he gets angry and grumpy.” Yev explained.

“Sounds like Papa,” Ian replied, enjoying the chance to tease his husband.

“Hey hey Gallagher,” Mickey grumbled, no real fire in his objection. 

Yev giggled a little. Mickey started tickling the boy. “You think that’s funny, do you?” Yev started squealing with delight as he squirmed under Mickey’s tickles. “Well Daddy’s like a stegosaurus, all goofy and shit,” Mickey teased back at Ian.

“Yev, I’m not goofy am I! Let’s tickle Papa,” Ian protested, pretending to be offended.

Yev looked at Ian with that mischievous Milkovich grin. Then they both jumped onto Mickey, tickling him. They were all laughing like a bunch of kids. It was fucking glorious. 


	4. The School Gate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little on the short side but it felt like the right place to end the chapter. The next chapter will only be a few days away.  
> Please read the notes at the end after reading.  
> Hope you are all safe and healthy where ever you are in the world!   
> I love getting comments if you have time.  
> Rachael :)

Nearly a month had passed since Svetlana’s funeral and they were settling into a good routine. They had introduced Yev to all the Gallagher’s except Fiona. Mickey had gotten very protective when Frank was around, and he couldn’t fucking blame him. Yev and Franny enjoyed playing together, and both kids liked ‘looking after’ little Freddie. 

On Mickey’s side they could trust only Sandy, although she was half living in the Milkovich house and half with Debbie in the Gallagher house. Both Mickey and he were uncomfortable with her still having ties to Terry and couldn’t understand why she didn’t get out. They hadn’t seen Terry since the wedding—not that they saw him that day either–but he hadn’t caused any more shit. It didn’t stop them worrying. Ian knew it was always at the back of Mickey’s mind, a dark cloud forever hanging over his head. He silently prayed for Terry’s death but didn’t want it to be at the hands of Mickey. He couldn’t lose him to prison again.

Today he had worked an early shift and was standing at the school gate waiting for Yev to come out. So far they had managed school drop offs and pickups well, with Debbie and Tami helping out when they were both working, and also Sandy if they were stuck. Some moms had introduced themselves already, but today Ian had promised Yev he would try to catch up with Clara’s mom and organise a playdate. 

The school bell rang and kids started streaming out of their classrooms to waiting parents. He loved doing this for Yev—he felt grown up and responsible, and it was more than Frank or Monica ever did for him and his siblings. Yev had settled in well at school; he loved Miss Berry, and he had made a lot of friends, although Clara remained his bestie. He wondered if Yev had a little crush on Clara. The two of them skipped out together, backpacks on and holding hands before separating to go to their respective parents. It was cute as shit. 

“Daddy, Daddy, can you please ask Clara’s mommy today? Pleeeeease?” Yev pleaded, eyes wide, waiting for his answer.

“Sure Yevvy, let’s go and ask,” he replied, as Yev took his hand and dragged him over to where Clara and her mom were standing.

“Hi there, I’m…um…Yev’s dad, Ian,” he said. It still felt weird saying it, but it was getting easier every time. Clara’s mom had long brown wavy hair, kind brown eyes and a perfect smile. If he wasn’t gay, he would say Clara’s mom was a ‘nine’ in her skinny jeans and stiletto heels. She was the mom other moms were jealous of. 

“Hi Ian, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Teagan,” she replied, touching him lightly on his lower arm. “Clara can’t stop talking about Yev. They have become such wonderful friends so quickly.”

“Same at our house. It’s always Clara said this, or Clara said that. It’s cute. Hey, I was wondering if we could get the kids together for a playdate this week? Maybe Thursday after school? My husband and I both have the afternoon off.”

“Oh, so that’s who that other man is that I’ve seen picking Yev up. Makes sense now. Yeah, Thursday’s great for us—we could go to that new playground on Jackson Street—the one opposite Cold Rock.”

Yev and Clara had been listening to the entire conversation and started jumping up and down in delight. 

“Sounds perfect. We’ll meet you here on Thursday then,” he replied, as he grabbed Yev’s hand preparing to head off.

“Looking forward to it,” Teagan said, as she headed off in the opposite direction.

*

Ian was just getting ready to dish up their dinner when Mickey walked through the door from work. Yev was playing contentedly with his toy dinosaurs on the living room floor.

“Hey, sorry I’m late, got held up,” Mickey yelled out to Ian, before bending over and placing a kiss on the top of Yev’s head.

“Hey Papa. Wanna play dinosaurs with me?” Yev asked.

“Maybe after dinner bud,” Mickey said as he continued through to the kitchen.

His husband pulled him in by his shirt and pressed their lips together, lingering just a little. 

“How was your day?” he asked, slapping Mickey’s bum lightly as he turned to towards the fridge to grab a beer. 

“Boring as shit as always. Was thinking maybe I should start an online business. You know, selling shit. Could be a good way to make more money so we can get a bigger place.”

He placed their plates on the table, calling to Yev that dinner was ready, before answering Mickey. “That sounds like a good idea cos you can do it from home whenever. But what the fu- hell are you going to sell?” They were both trying not to drop the f-bomb every five fucking seconds in front of Yev, but they were still failing miserably. They all sat down and started wolfing down their food.

‘Fuck if I know. Shit sorry Yev. Can’t sell drugs or guns. What else do I know about? Was hoping you might have some ideas,” Mickey said, eyebrows lifted, waiting for him to answer.

“Papa, you should sell dinosaurs. Roooooaaaarrrrr,” Yev yelled, hands held up like claws.

They both started laughing at their son’s idea. 

“Hey before I forget, I met Clara’s mom today. Her name is Teagan, and I organised the playdate for Thursday after school. We’re going to that new playground on Jackson Street.”

“Yeah, Papa and there’s a Cold Rock ice cream parlour there too!” Yev had his eyebrows lifted as he waited to hear Mickey’s response. Ian looked over to Mickey to see the same look on his husband’s face—it was fucking hilarious. 

“Watcha saying Yev?” Mickey asked, teasing the boy.

“Well we could go and get ice cream since we’ll already be there,” Yev replied, as if his Dad was plain stupid.

Ian couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “Yevvy, Papa is just teasing, of course we can get ice cream.”

“Jesus Gallagher, you’re gonna spoil the kid rotten,” Mickey said, a soft smile on his lips.

They were just about finished their dinner when there was a knock at the door.

“You get it Gallagher. I’ll start washing the dishes.”

Opening the door, Ian was met with a worried looking Lip.

“Hey is Mickey here too?” Lip asked, as he came in the door, Ian closing it behind him.

“Yeah, what’s up? Something wrong?” Ian replied, following Lip into the kitchen. Lip said hello to Yev, giving him a high five before looking from him to Mickey and back again.

“Spit it out, man.” Mickey said, breaking the silence.

“Terry was just on our doorstep saying that he needed Mickey’s address cos Mandy’s been hurt and he needs Mickey’s help,” Lip said.

“Fuck!” Mickey said, looking at Ian for his reaction.

“Yevvy, go play in the living room for a while,” he instructed, Yev doing what he was told. Ian turned to Lip. “You didn’t fucking give him this address, did you?”

“Course I didn’t fucking give him the address Ian. But I don’t know if it was true about Mandy or he was just making it up to get me to tell him,” Lip replied.

The three of them looked at each other in silence. Ian spoke first, “Lip what was your gut feeling? We have no fucking way of getting in contact with Mandy—we tried for the wedding. But we also can’t put Yev in danger.”

Lip rubbed his chin before replying, “I think it was bullshit. Maybe he’s heard about Yev or Svetlana dying. You know you guys are often at the house. It’s really only a matter of time before he turns up when you’re all there.”

“Motherfucker! Should have let me kill him Ian. I told you he’d never let me be happy,” Mickey yelled, slamming his fist on the table. 

“Mick, calm down, you don’t want to scare Yev,” he said as he wrapped his arms around Mickey. He resisted, but he held on tight until Mickey wrapped his arms around his waist and rested his head on his shoulder. When he pulled away, he asked Lip and Mickey to sit down at the table. He got beers out for them, then took a seat himself.

“Mick, don’t reject this idea straight away, hear me out. I think we should apply for an Order of Protection, for all three of us—you, me and Yev. There would still be the police report from when he assaulted you at the Alibi when you came out. There’s the police report of our motel room getting shot at the day after our wedding, and we have witnesses who saw him turn up at our wedding with a gun. I think it would be granted. Then if he fucking comes near any of us, he’ll be thrown back in prison.” 

Mickey was still and silent. Ian hadn’t told Mickey, but he had been doing some research since they got Yev and he knew they met the criteria to be granted one. 

Lip spoke first, “I think it’s a fucking smart idea. Mickey, I know it probably goes against everything you’ve been taught but maybe it's time to tackle this differently.”

“It might make him even more fuckin’ pissed,” Mickey replied, eyes full of fear. 

Ian reached over and took Mickey’s hand. “We need to do something Mick. We can’t keep living like this. We have Yev to think about now. It’s either this or we move further away. We can’t leave the state until we’re off probation. I think this is our best option.”

“Or I could fuckin’ kill him.”

Ian suddenly felt really pissed off. He stood up abruptly and leant over to get in Mickey’s face. “What? And then you get locked up for the next twenty-five years and Yev doesn’t have a dad? What was the fucking point of getting married Mick?”

“Daddy? Papa? Why are you yelling?” Yev’s voice was barely a whisper. His little body clutching Rex in the kitchen doorway. 

Ian felt like a fucking monster. He gathered Yev up in his arms. “I’m sorry Yevvy. I shouldn’t have yelled at Papa. We just found out something that made me mad. But everything will be ok.”

“Let’s do the Protection Order,” Mickey said, as he made his way over. As his husband gathered them in a hug, he kissed Yev on his forehead then pressed his lips to Mickey’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't plan on making this fic too dark or sad. But Terry is still a factor in their lives and to ignore his existence would be an oversight. The focus of this fic will be about their relationship and them as parents. The next chapter will be fun and a little bit naughty ;)


	5. The Playdate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Yev's first playdate with Clara. Ian has to deal with some much overdue payback. Mickey finally has an idea for his online business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing this chapter! It's got some cute moments and well...some smut! Enjoy! ;)  
> Stay safe everyone!  
> Rachael

It was Thursday and Mickey was on his way to meet Ian at the school gate so they could both go on Yev’s first playdate. He was nervous about fucking it up. He knew he could be a bit too much for some people. Yev really liked Clara, and he wanted to make a good impression so there would be more playdates, sleepovers or whatever the fuck normal families do. He was almost at the school when his cell buzzed. Ian.

“Hey, you nearly here?” he asked, skipping the formalities.

“Yeah…Mick…about that. I’m not going to make it, I have to work until six. I can’t say no, you know that. Can’t afford to lose my job when I’m on probation.”

He stopped walking. Why the fuck was this happening? “Ian, I haven’t even met Clara’s mom! What’s her fuckin’ name? Tina? Jesus Gallagher, don’t wanna do this shit on my own.” He sounded like a whiny bitch, but he didn’t care. He wanted his husband.

“Mick, it will be fine. Her name is Teagan and she’s really friendly. Just talk about the kids if you get stuck. I’m sorry. I gotta go. I’ll see you at home around 6.30pm. Love you.”

“Fuck you Gallagher. Love you too.”

*

Mickey placed the dinner plates on the coffee table. Ian still wasn’t home, so he and Yev were going to eat in front of the T.V. He still couldn’t believe how well the playdate went. Teagan was a fucking blast. They hit it off straight away when he found out she grew up poor and loved shooting guns. They traded childhood stories the entire time Clara and Yev played in the park. At first he thought she would be a princess with her perfect hair and makeup and sexy mom clothes. He couldn’t have been more wrong. He’d found out she was divorced, her fucking asshole ex having taken off with his mistress, never to be heard of again. No one knew where he was, so she couldn’t get child support. Teagan and Clara lived with her sister so she could work the night shift and still get Clara to school and back. He fucking respected that.

At about 6.45pm Ian arrived home, looking tired out after working a twelve-hour shift. His husband kissed Yev on the top of his head first before cupping his jaw and kissing him gently. 

“Your dinner’s in the oven. Hey, sit down and I’ll get it for you,” he told Ian as he stood up.

Ian thanked him and plopped down on the sofa next to Yev. “Yevy how was the playdate? Did you have fun? Did Papa have fun?”

Yev teared his eyes away from the T.V to look at Ian. “It was so much fun Daddy. They had this big slide that curled around and around. And this giant fort like a pirate ship you could climb and pretend to be a pirate.”

Mickey placed Ian’s dinner down in front of him together with a cold beer. 

“Sounds like I missed out big time. Wish I could have been there,” Ian said, sounding sad.

Yev sat up on his knees and held Ian’s face in his hands, squeezing his cheeks. “Don’t be sad Daddy, you can come next time. Papa got Clara’s mom’s phone number and they said they will text each other about another one next week.” Yev then kissed Ian on the forehead, before returning to his cartoon. Mickey couldn’t believe what a beautiful fucking kid he had.

Ian turned to Mickey. “You exchanged numbers? Guess you managed just fine without me then.” Mickey was certain he could hear an undertone of annoyance in Ian’s tone.

“Teagan’s fuckin’ awesome. Nothing like she looks. Told me all about her shitty childhood. She likes shooting. We were thinking of going to the shooting range one day.”

Ian’s face was screwed up, like he just ate a lemon. “What the fu- hell Mickey? You making friends with women now? What you gonna catch up without the kids?” 

“Why not? What, I can’t have friends? Gallagher you got plenty of friends. She was a cool chick. Be nice to have someone to hang out with. And if Yev and Clara are gonna be friends, we need to be friends with Teagan too.”

At that, his husband dropped it and picked up his beer.

*****

It was Friday night and they were playing dinosaurs on the floor with Yev. Ian leant over to Mickey to avoid Yev hearing. “Mick, I’ve got the paperwork for the Order of Protection. We should fill it out over the weekend so we can lodge it next week.” 

“Yeah, let’s get it done tomorrow. No point in putting it off,” Mickey replied.

“Hey, you come up with any ideas for your online business yet?” he asked, as he and Yev crashed two dinosaurs together, Yev yelling ‘roar’ at the top of his lungs.

“Nope, can’t think of anything good that’s legal. Pity I can’t get by in life on my good looks and charm, huh?”

Ian leant over and placed a kiss on Mickey’s cheek. “You got me with your good looks and charm,” he replied.

“Here Daddy you hold the triceratops and Papa you have the pterodactyl. Clara’s mom says that Papa is so charming and handsome.” Yev seemed to imitate Teagan, speaking in a ‘girls’ voice, rolling his eyes as his arms danced around. What the fuck? 

Mickey started laughing. “Bud, did you hear Clara’s mom say that?”

“Yep, after school today before Aunt Debbie picked me up. She was talking about you to another mom. Let’s play! Papa yours is a flying dinosaur, lift him up in the air. Don’t be a dumbass.”

Mickey and Yev started playing with the dinosaurs while Ian got more and more fucking mad about this Teagan chick. Who the fuck did she think she was talking about his husband like that? Asking him out on fucking ‘shooting’ dates. And why was Mickey so happy about it? He would get the bottom of this shit!

*****

It was Monday afternoon and Ian knew Mickey was picking Yev up from school. He also knew that Teagan had already texted Mickey over the weekend. How did he know that? Cos he went through Mickey’s phone when he was taking a shit last night. It all seemed innocent and Mickey’s answers had been short and to the point, but even so…

This was so fucking stupid. How could he be jealous of a woman? If it was a cute gay dad then sure, he would have every right to be pissed. He made a crazy split decision and told his boss he just threw up and could he go home early. He had had no sick days, so his boss was cool about it.

Now he was approaching the school like a creeper, trying to get close enough to see what Mickey was doing without being seen. He stopped behind a small tree and peeped around, scanning the parents to find his husband. The bell was due to ring in a few minutes. When his eyes landed on Mickey, he let out a gasp. The motherfucker was with Teagan, throwing his head back, laughing at her joke. This was followed by Teagan flicking her hair over her shoulder, then squeezing Mickey’s bicep! What the fuck! 

He had seen enough. He stormed out from behind the tree, making a beeline for them. As he approached, Teagan took one of Mickey’s hands and touched his tattooed fingers. His blood was fucking boiling. The bell rang. Mickey turned and saw him at the last minute.

“Hey Ian, watcha doin’ here? Everything ok?” Mickey asked, looking nervous.

“I don’t know! IS everything ok Mick?” he spat out. 

“Hi Ian, how are you? Such a bummer you couldn’t make it last week,” Teagan said. Placing her arm loosely around Mickey’s shoulders she continued, “Mick and I had so much fun.”

“Yeah I bet you did,” he replied, trying to lace his voice with as much sarcasm as possible.

Yev and Clara bounded over to them, distracting all three adults as everyone greeted each other. He could sense Mickey was watching him closely, amusement radiating off him, but Ian couldn’t even fucking look at his husband right now. There was nothing funny about this.

*****

Sitting down to dinner, Mickey couldn’t believe Ian was still giving him the silent treatment three hours later. And over a woman! Yeah, he had to admit he had gone a little overboard. He genuinely liked Teagan, but he had consciously chosen to let her flirt with him and well…flirt back. Payback was a fucking bitch and Gallagher deserved to get some of his own medicine. All those times Ian got hit on by women and just laughed at him for being a jealous bitch. Now Ian could see what it felt like. He wasn’t fucking sorry at all. He could play this silent treatment game too.

“Bud, could you pass the salt?” Mickey asked his son.

“Papa, it’s in front of Ian, ask him I can’t reach,” Yev replied, his brows knitted together.

“Here Yevy, pass this to Papa,” Ian said, voice steely cold as he passed the salt to Yev.

“What is wrong with you two? Why aren’t you speaking? Did you have a fight?” Yev asked as he passed the salt, then looked from Ian to Mickey and back again. 

Mickey wanted to laugh so hard at his son, but he was determined to make Ian break his silence first. “Daddy is just a little upset over something silly. He’ll get over it Yev.” Ian stuck his chin out in the usual stubborn-as-fuck Gallagher fashion. Mickey was losing it, a smile threatening to escape. For sure, he had that glint in his eyes. If Ian dared to look at him, they would either fuck or fight. But now they were parents, that shit would have to wait. Mickey was sporting a semi just thinking about Ian getting his hands on him. 

Yev smiled up at Ian. “Daddy whatever it is, it’ll be ok. Clara’s mom always says, ‘sleep on it, it will be better in the morning.’”

Apparently, that was the last straw for Ian. He stood up, kissed Yev on the head and told him he would be back later. As Ian stormed off toward the front door, he yelled out, “Come on Gallagher,” the only reply being the sound of the door slamming shut. Ok, maybe things were more serious than he thought.

*

It was late when Ian finally came home. Mickey watched his husband carefully as he hung up his coat and finally looked him in the eye. 

“You ready to talk Gallagher?” he asked, a little pissed at his husband running off for fucking hours. Ian nodded and headed off to their bedroom, Mickey following behind. Once inside, with the door closed, he took a seat on their bed and waited. 

“I’m sorry I ran off in the middle of dinner. It wasn’t fucking cool,” Ian said, looking at the floor and keeping his distance.

“Wanna tell me what’s got you so riled up?” Mickey asked.

“You know what got me riled up Mickey! She was fucking all over you, touching you, and you were just…letting her! And fucking flirting back. Don’t fucking try to deny it.”

Ian was getting himself all worked up, his cheeks red with frustration. Mickey was already getting hard just thinking about how this would end. He licked his lips, eyes zeroing on his husbands’ package.

“I’m not denying it. Women flirt with you all the fuckin’ time Ian. What? Not as much fun when the shoes on the other foot? Hmm?” He raised his eyebrows at Ian, deliberately taunting him.

“Don’t like seeing anyone touch you,” Ian replied, edging closer to the bed. 

“You don’t fuckin’ own me Gallagher,” he challenged, the mood shifting just how he wanted. He spread his legs wider, watching his husband’s cock harden under his sweats.

Ian stepped in between his legs, pushing his pelvis forward, close to his mouth. Ian tilted his chin up, so they were looking at each other. “You are fucking mine, and you know it,” Ian said, running a hand through his hair. 

Fuck! Mickey was already gone, lust coursing through him. Two more words and Ian would give him exactly what he wanted. “Prove it.”

Ian lurched forward, pushing him back onto the bed and climbing on top of him. Their mouths and tongues competing for dominance as Ian pinned his arms above his head and ground their cocks together. Ian tore his lips away, sat up and pulled his cock out. He shuffled up higher, so his cock was hovering over Mickey’s mouth. He loved Ian’s cock. He licked up into the slit, his husband letting out a guttural moan.

“I’m the only one who gets to touch you Mick.”

“You sure about that Firecrotch?” he teased, provoking his jealous ginger.

He watched Ian’s eyes dilate until they were nearly black, then his husband flipped him over onto his stomach, stripped his sweats and boxers off in one violent motion and pulled him up onto his knees. Ian slapped his ass hard, then spread his cheeks and licked up his crack. 

“Who owns this ass Mick?” Ian growled out, before landing another slap to Mickey’s ass.

Ian dove back in and licked, twirled and sucked at his hole. Mickey could feel his legs shaking and hear the moans coming from deep in his chest. 

“If you own my ass, then fuckin’ show me,” he demanded, as he pushed back onto Ian’s tongue. He needed Ian in him now. His cock was so hard. He wanted to touch himself, but he held off; the denial made the release so much more intense.

Ian leant over his back to whisper in his ear, “I’ll fucking show you all right.”

Then he was being manhandled again, pulled up onto his feet and his shirt stripped off. Ian paused, breathing hard, before kissing him slow and deep. He could feel his entire body melting into Ian, their hands grabbing and squeezing into each other’s flesh. Ian was still fully clothed with his sweats hung low, his cock out and pressed against Mickey’s stomach.

“The bathroom. Now!” Ian demanded, as he walked over to their chest of draws. Sweet Jesus, Mickey was getting a toy. He licked his lips in anticipation. Was he getting the anal beads, or the vibrating dildo, or his favourite pair of handcuffs? Ian pulled out the handcuffs. Mickey stroked his cock, body trembling in anticipation. He wasn’t going to lie, any bondage with Ian always led to a mind-blowing orgasm. 

“Thought I told you to get in the bathroom?” Ian said, as he ran a finger down his crack with one hand while slapping a wrist into a cuff. His husband led him into the bathroom-by pulling his handcuffed wrist- then threw the handcuffs over the shower curtain rod, taking Mickey’s arm above his head, before he grabbed his other wrist and closed the second cuff. Fuck. His body was on fire. Ian started running his hands all over him, across his nipples, over his hips, down the back of his thighs.

“Fucking beautiful Mickey. My sexy husband,” Ian cooed in his ear from behind, before biting into his neck. “Do I own your ass?“ Ian continued, kneading his ass cheeks before spreading them apart. He knew his husband would be staring at his hole, desperate to penetrate it.

“Depends what you can do with that cock,” he replied, getting Ian riled up again. They had played this game many times. He pulled against his restraints, dodging Ian’s lips to tease him.

“I think you know what I can do with this cock.” Ian lubed up two fingers then turned him around so they were chest to chest. Sinking down to his knees, Ian nudged at his thighs so he would spread his legs more. Ian ghosted over his throbbing cock for a few seconds, then pushed two fingers inside him as he swallowed him down. He wasted no time setting a brutal pace, Mickey egging him on by thrusting forward into Ian’s mouth and fucking himself back onto Ian’s fingers. Curses fell from him mouth and Ian moaned around his cock. 

“Get in me Gallagher. Need you. Need that cock in me.”

Ian pulled off and out, then roughly turned him back around. Within seconds, Ian was pushing into him, not stopping until their bodies were flush.

“Fuuuck! Jesus Christ Ian. Feels so good,” he said, eyes rolling back in his head as pleasure rippled through him.

Ian started thrusting hard and fast. He was holding Mickey’s hips, pulling his ass back as he thrust forward. The slapping together of bodies, their grunts and moans filled the bathroom. It was fucking perfect. He never thought flirting with a woman could bring him such ecstasy.

Ian reached around to grab his leaking cock, jerking it in time with his thrusts. Mickey knew he would not last much longer. “Ian, gonna cum.”

“Not until you tell me who you belong to, you’re not” Ian growled in his ear as he took his hand off his cock. 

Mickey thrashed against the handcuffs in objection. He needed to cum so badly. Ian’s cock was hitting his prostate with every thrust, the pleasure was almost painful.

“Say it Mick. Who do you belong to?”

“You Ian you! Only you!”

Ian grabbed hold of his cock and pumped hard. His entire body convulsed, pulsing long and deep with each spurt of cum that shot out onto the shower floor. His vision blurred, and the room spun. Ian was holding him up, so his wrists didn’t pull on the handcuffs. Ian came deep inside him, ‘you’re mine Mickey’ falling repeatedly from his lips.

Ian held onto him for a while as they tried to regain their breath, before he released him from the cuffs. Ian collapsed down onto the bathroom floor, pulling him down into his lap. Ian still had his sweats and boxers around his ankles. He cupped his husband’s jaw before licking into his mouth. They kissed lazily for a while, wrapped up in each other.

“Love you,” he said when they finally pulled apart to look at each other.

“Love you too asshole,” Ian replied, a smile erupting across his face.

“You’re such a dumbass, Ian. Of course, I’m yours. But it goes both ways—you own me and I own you.” 

Mickey got up first, then helped Ian up. He turned the shower on and they both stepped inside, beginning their shower routine. Right about the time he poured shampoo onto Ian’s hair the idea came to him.

“Ian, I think I know what I want to sell online.” 

“What?” Ian asked, looking over his shoulder at Mickey

“Gay sex toys,” he replied, raising his eyebrows twice before smiling at his husband’s shocked face. 


	6. Laying the Foundations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK I'm using my creative license here. My take on Ian's season 10 EMT job was that it was an illegally run 'contract' company and that after Paula was murdered he would have been placed in another job. They never mentioned what either of the boys were doing for jobs after Paula so who knows. From my basic research it seems like it might be hard to be an EMT with a record. Anyway, I have explored Ian's career in this chapter a little based on my assumptions. I also have no idea about Southside rental prices - so please just go with it. The Order of Protection is a real thing - although I only have basic details on it. Mickey also partakes in some minor prejudicial stereotyping about gay men in this chapter. I feel this is in character for him - especially based on his reaction to Cole.

Ian rolled onto his back, reached for his cell on the nightstand and checked the time. Still early. It had been two days since he had lost his shit over Teagan, realising he had overreacted big time. He wasn’t sure why it had triggered his jealous streak. Maybe it was because Mickey used to fuck girls when they were young. He could still remember how pissed he was about Angie Zargo. Or maybe it was Caleb that had laid a fear. He couldn’t be sure, but he was letting it go—better to save his jealousy for when a dude hit on his husband. Cos that motherfucker was going down.

He slid his hand into his boxers and slowly stroked his morning wood. They had enjoyed sleeping naked in their own apartment but had gone back to boxers after Yev had wandered into their room a couple of times during the night. They had put a lock on the door and always used it if they planned on fucking in the evening. Then they would unlock it before falling asleep in case Yev needed them. 

He slipped out of bed, flicked the lock and threw off his boxers. Yev rarely woke up for another 30 minutes or so. Once back under the covers, he pulled Mickey’s boxers down and slid his hard cock between Mickey’s ass cheeks. He snaked an arm around his husband and gently squeezed Mickey’s balls before slowly rubbing his shaft. Peppering open mouthed wet kisses along Mickey’s neck and shoulders he began to rock; his cock sliding between his husbands butt cheeks. 

“Hmm…feels good,” Mickey said, his voice rumbling like a purr. Mickey joined in the languid rocking, the extra pressure on Ian’s cock causing deep moans to flow out of him. 

“Turn around Mick, want to kiss you.”

As Mickey turned, Ian pulled him in tight by grabbing his ass. Their lips slotted together perfectly, Ian sucking on Mickey’s bottom lip before their mouths opened to welcome each other’s tongues. He pulled away to reach for the lube, then poured a little over both their cocks. 

“Morning husband,” Mickey said, before grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. 

Ian clasped his hand around both their cocks and started stroking slow and firm. Before long they were both thrusting up into his hand as they groaned in pleasure. It felt so fucking good. Mickey ran a finger down his crack and began massaging his rim. The extra stimulus had him jerking them faster as he latched onto Mickey’s neck, biting and sucking hard. 

“Fuck Ian, gonna cum. You nearly there?” Mickey moaned, on the verge of his release.

“Fuck yes, I’m thinking about my cock sliding in and out of your tight ass.”

“Oh fuck, fuck,” Mickey cried out as his orgasm hit him hard. 

Ian’s climax erupted seconds later, their cum splattering across his hand and their chests. They kissed lazily as they came down from the high. “Morning husband,” he finally replied.

*

Breakfast was still hectic for them as they continued to establish a good morning routine with Yev. But on this day, they were up a little earlier and were all sitting down at the table together. 

“Mick, I didn’t get to tell you last night, but I rang Sue, my old EMT boss, and asked her if there’s any way to get my job back. She said there’s an application I can submit and then they have a hearing to decide. Apparently, it’s possible even though I have a record. Sue said she would speak on my behalf and if I got a reference from my PO that would help too. I know it’s a long shot but I want a better job so we can provide more for Yev.”

“What’s an Eeee M Teee,” Yev asked.

“It’s when you ride in an ambulance and help people who are sick or hurt,” he told Yev.

“Daddy that sounds so cool. Can I ride in the amulance with you?”

“If I get my old job back, you might be able to come down to the station and sit in the ambulance.” He turned to Mickey, “What do you think?”

“I think it would be fuckin’ brilliant. But don’t get your hopes up,” Mickey replied, standing up to clear their breakfast dishes.

“Pappa said a bad word again Daddy,” Yev announced.

Ian’s cell buzzed, interrupting the conversation. “Hey Kev, what’s up”

_“Ian my man. Got some great news about an apartment. Only thing is you got to act fast.”_

“OK, where is it, how much?” he asked, Mickey looking at him with a confused expression.

_“It’s a three-bedroom house over on Jamison Street. They are leaving next week for an entire year and they need to sub-let it fast -so it’s going for a steal. I told them you guys would be perfect.”_

“Guess you didn’t tell them we’re ex-cons then?”

Mickey leant against the sink and folded his arms across his chest, eyebrows lifted in question.

_“No I didn’t tell them that. Look, they only want $800 a month. You just got to handle any repairs yourself and you can only have it for a year.”_

“Ok, I’ll talk to Mickey. When can we see it?”

_“Be there at 6pm today. They are seeing another family tomorrow so if you want it you have to decide tonight.”_

Kev told him the address. He thanked him and hung up. 

“Well spill it, what was that all about?” Mickey asked, coming to stand in front of him.

“Kev found us a house to sub-let. They only want $800 a month because they need it leased this week. It’s three bedrooms Mick. A house!”

“Bud go grab your school bag and put your lunch in it,” Mickey said, handing the lunchbox to his son. “Sounds too good to be fuckin’ true is what it sounds. You can't get a house for $800 a month. Must be falling down or full of cockroaches or some shit.”

“Mick our lease is up here in a month and we would have to pay more than $800 for a two bedroom. If you start an online business, you will need an office and somewhere to keep stock. This could be perfect. Let’s at least see it.”

“All right Gallagher, but you better not be wasting my time.” 

They grabbed their bags and headed out the door, Yev leading the way. Once on the sidewalk, Yev pushed in between them, taking hold of their hands. 

“Swing me, swing me,” Yev chanted. 

Swinging Yev into the air, he smiled across at Mickey. They were taking control of their lives. From the moment they got married they had taken steps forward in building something together. Just moving out into their own apartment had been a huge step. Now they had Yev, Mickey had ambitions to open a business, he was trying to get his old job back, and now maybe the perfect house. Which left one more thing to take care of.

“Mickey, don’t forget to meet me at the courthouse on your lunch-break so we can submit the Protection Order paperwork.”

“No forgetting that Gallagher. I’ll be there with fuckin’ bells on.”

“Yeah Daddy, Papa will be there with fuckin’ bells on,” Yev said, smiling up at him. 

Mickey dropped Yev’s hand and turned to face him. The three of them stopped on the sidewalk. 

Mickey frowned at his son, then spoke sternly, “Yev, I told you not to fuckin’ curse.” 

“Jesus Mickey, you can’t curse at him when you tell him not to curse!”

“Why the fuck not?” 

He shook his head, then started laughing. There really was no point. Their son was going to curse like a sailor. 

*****

Mickey was piggy-backing Yev on the walk over to see the house. It was in a convenient location, close to school and not too far from the Gallagher house. “Kev better not be wasting our fuckin’ time. I’m starving and just wanna eat.”

“Papa, can we have pizza for dinner?” Yev asked, tightening his grip around Mickey’s neck.

“Mick it’s this one. Number 35.” Ian said, staring wide eyed at the house.

The house looked perfect. It was only small, but it had been renovated—well at least the outside had.

“There’s gotta be a catch. No way is this only $800 a month,” Mickey said, putting Yev down. 

“Well we’re here now, so let’s go in.”

They headed up the front steps and knocked on the door. The door flew open a few seconds later to reveal a very gay man. Mickey felt it was ok for him to think like that. As far as he was concerned being gay meant he could make fun of other gay men. Ian probably wouldn’t agree. Sometimes his husband was a goody two shoes. 

“Are you Kev’s friends? Come in come in,” he said, ushering them in. “I’m Brad and my hubby is somewhere around here. Simon darling… Simon, they’re here.”

They followed Brad through the living area and into the kitchen where they finally found Simon. 

“Sorry sweetheart, I was on my hands and knees bent over trying to pack the things from the back of the cupboard,” Simon said, then kissed Brad on the cheek. 

Mickey had to admit they seemed like the perfect couple in their pastel colours, skinny jeans and matching glasses. 

Brad turned to face him and Ian. “Nothing better than a hubby on his hands and knees, now is there?” Brad shrugged his shoulders, then giggled. 

“Stop it, you have a one-track mind,” Simon replied as he slapped Brad’s bum. “It’s Ian and Mickey, isn’t it? Kev told us you only recently got married. Congratulations!”

Brad bent down in front of Yev. “And who’s this adorable little one?”

“That’s Yev, my son. Our son,” Mickey corrected himself, hoping Ian wasn’t offended. “Is this place really only $800 per month?” 

“Well Simon got this fantastic one-year contract in New York but he has to start on Friday. I’m going to finish packing up the house by the weekend. We aren’t supposed to sub-let and because we need to sort it out asap we thought $800 would be fair. And we like the idea of helping a young gay family. Here, let me take you on the tour.”

Brad showed them around the house. Downstairs had the living, kitchen, a small third bedroom—perfect for an office—and a toilet. Upstairs was the master bedroom, the second bedroom and a family bathroom. It had all been renovated. It was a dream house. Mickey was looking for the catch, but couldn’t find it. Brad and Simon seemed fucking nice. Maybe too trusting or dumb as shit, but definitely nice. 

They excused themselves, going out into the small backyard to talk it over. Ian had been playing it cool as usual. Yeah, that was a joke. Ian had his big goofy grin plastered all over his face and Yev was repeatedly asking ‘are we moving here?’ while jumping up and down.

“Mick we gotta take it, it's perfect. And I already asked Lip if we can borrow a few hundred - since we will have double rent for a month - to get us through.”

“We’re not missing somethin’ here? Are we getting hustled by these two queens?” he asked Ian, scratching his head.

“I don’t think so. I got a good feeling about it. Let’s take a chance. Yev will have his own room and you can start your business,” Ian replied.

“Ok, fuck it, let’s do it!”

Brad was leaving Saturday afternoon, so they arranged to bring back the contract, pay the first month’s rent and pick up the keys on Saturday at noon. Mickey couldn’t comprehend how much their lives at changed in the last six weeks.

They picked up a pizza for dinner on the way home, collapsing on the couch in front of the TV. They were exhausted from the excitement and hungry as hell. 

“Are we still going on the playdate with Clara after school on Friday?” Yev asked, mouth full of pizza.

Mickey turned to look at Ian to gauge his mood on the topic.

“I’m cool, Mick,” Ian said.

“Well that’s great cos I’m not going. You can go and sort your shit out with Teagan.”

“But Mick-.”

“No ‘buts’ Gallagher. This one’s on you.” 

*****

It was Friday. Playdate day. Ian was nervous as shit. He had been a prick to Teagan last time he had seen her. He needed to eat some humble pie. For both Yev and Mickey’s sake, he had to make this work. First on the agenda, after an apology, was to figure out Teagan’s motives.

He arrived a few minutes before the bell so he could speak to her without Yev around. He wasn’t even sure if Mickey had told her he wasn’t coming—even though it was Mickey that arranged the playdate. He spotted Teagan chatting with another few moms. He approached slowly, not sure if he should interrupt.

“Ian! Hi, how are you?” Teagan asked, all smiles once she saw him. She reached out and stroked up and down his upper arm.

“I’m great, thanks. Hey, I just wanted to apologise for being a prick last week.”

“Oh really? I didn’t even notice. Everyone has an off day, it’s cool.”

“I don’t know if Mickey told you, but he can’t make it today. Where are we headed to anyway?” he asked.

“Yeah Mickey text me to let me know. He’s a funny motherfucker. You are one lucky man Ian. But this is good. It gives us a chance to talk more. Although I feel like I already know you—that husband of yours never stops talking about you.” 

Well, if that didn’t make him feel like shit. Just knowing that his husband talked about him to Teagan told him how stupid he had been. 

“He is a great husband. Fell in love with him when I was fifteen,” he said, his cheeks flushing at his admission.

The bell rang and the kids started emerging from their classrooms. The schoolyard suddenly alive with the sounds of childhood. Yev and Clara came out together, as always. He swept Yev up in a big hug.

“You kids still want to go bowling?” Teagan asked.

If the squeals of delight were anything to go by, it was a yes.

*****

Mickey and Sandy were sitting at the dining room table discussing his online business idea. Sandy thought it was fucking awesome—her words–and had suggested they go into business together and have a gay and lesbian sex toy shop. It took him all of two minutes to realise that was a fucking awesome—his words—idea. He would oversee all the gay shit and Sandy all the lesbo shit. It was a bigger market to sell to, and he knew they would work well together.

The problem was start-up finance. He didn’t have any, and he didn’t really want to do anything illegal to get some. He had Yev to think about and his husband would fucking kill him if he got his ass thrown back in prison. 

“Mick, why don’t you apply for one of those ex-con grant things they have?” Sandy asked.

“What the fuck is that?”

Sandy picked up her phone and started tapping away at the screen while she spoke, “They have these government grants for ex-cons with business ideas to help them get their life on track. If we make a business plan, then you could apply. Ah, here it is. Oh fuck, the deadline is on Monday. But it’s twenty grand if you get it. What do you think? Can we do it? You working this weekend?”

“Nah not working, just got to finalise the new house tomorrow at noon. But Ian could do that. How the fuck can we do a business plan in one weekend?” he asked.

“Hang on, ok we only need to do the application by Monday then the business plan must be in by the following Monday. But we should try to do as much as we can this weekend. I think we should ask Lip to help.”

“Let’s fucking do it then. It’s worth a shot. Don’t want to be doing a shit-kicker job for the rest of my life.”

Sandy put her phone down and looked him straight in the eye. “I wasn’t going to say anything just yet, but I’ve been swindling your dad. He let’s me handle the books for all his gun and drug deals and I’ve been stealing cash since before the wedding. I’ve got nearly twenty grand. With forty grand we could really make a go of this business.”

A huge smile spread across his face. Sandy was a fucking badass. “Never been prouder of you, Sandy. Terry can fuckin’ eat shit and die. Let’s do this.” 

*****

Yev and Clara had finished bowling and they were now sitting in the café sharing a giant bowl of fries. Ian and Teagan had spent the time chatting while cheering on the kids. He had tried to hate Teagan, but he couldn’t manage it. Mickey was right, she was a cool chick. He’d also come to realise that Teagan was an outrageous flirt. After she had touched him about twenty times, he finally had to ask…

_“Teagan, you know I’m gay, right?”_

_“Ah duh, Ian. You’re married to Mickey. Why would you ask that?” Teagan questioned, confusion written all over her face._

_“Well, you kind of flirt a lot. With me. And with Mickey too,” he stated, not sure what to expect in response._

_“Ian babe, that’s exactly why I flirt with you and Mickey. I know that it’s going no-where. It’s safe, and besides, I love gay men. I mean, I am done with men when it comes to relationships. Fucking done!”_

Ian knew what Teagan’s ex had done to her so he could understand her feelings. It also made him relax to know that her behaviour was innocent. He knew plenty of men that were predators when it came to women, so it made sense when Teagan said she felt safe. She could have fun and flirt and never be taken advantage of. When he stopped to think about it, Mandy had been flirty with him too, and he missed having a female friend. Maybe Teagan would turn out to be a friend after all. 

They were just about to head home when Teagan grabbed his arm to stop him. “Oh I almost forgot. Clara wants to start baseball next weekend. Do you think Yev would like to join too? It’s a mixed team so they can play together. First game is next Saturday.”

Yev was grabbing onto his leg. “Please Daddy, please Daddy, can I play baseball with Clara?”

“We’ll have to talk to Papa when we get home but I’m sure it will be ok. Papa and I were on the same team when we were little.”

“Really Daddy?” Yev turned to Clara. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school, Clara.”

Yev and Clara hugged each other goodbye and they headed home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This started as a one shot and I now have a clear direction for this fic. I dreamt the last chapter last night and had to sit up in the middle of the night and write notes! LOL This fic will probably be in the 14-18 chapter range.  
> KUDOS AND COMMENTS SO SO APPRECIATED! Helps me with the isolation of lockdown - and I love hearing your thoughts!  
> Stay safe!!  
> Rachael


	7. The Dugouts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A big couple of days in the Gallagher-Milkovich family as they move and attend Yev's first baseball game!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why, but I love this chapter - so I hope you do too!!   
> (Warning: fat shaming)  
> Comments and Kudos are, as always, incredibly appreciated.

Mickey and Sandy had worked their fucking asses off on the business plan all weekend and then for three nights straight, finally submitting Thursday morning. They were moving tomorrow, and Mickey had wanted to get it finished beforehand as he knew how tired he would be afterwards. Lip had stepped up and guided them through all the financial projections and edited the whole document. Sandy had the idea to play up the LGBTQI+ angle by telling the story of how his homophobic father led him to a life of crime, and now the business would enable him to positively and actively take part in the LGBTQI+ community. He had to admit; it was PC enough to work. He really wanted to get this grant. And the thought of using Terry’s money to sell gay sex toys filled him with a level of peace and joy he never imagined possible.

Ian had submitted his EMT application to get his old job back, along with getting a recommendation from his PO, who was a decent fucking guy. They were waiting on a hearing date and he could sense Ian’s anxiety. Mickey wanted nothing more than for Ian to get his old job back - and not just for the higher income—but because Ian needed to feel he was doing some good in the world. He was constantly checking for any signs of mania or depression, and he often counted Ian’s meds to be sure he was on them and not missing any. Some days that made him feel like a piece of shit for not trusting Ian and some days it made him feel like he was being responsible and looking after his husband.

*****

Terry was laying back on the shitty sofa with one hand wrapped around a beer and the other down his pants. There was some stupid fuckin’ fishing show on the T.V but he couldn’t be fucked getting up to change the station. Someone banging on the front door was the last straw. “Fuck off!” he yelled, before taking another swig of his beer. The banging continued. He stood up and started for the door. “Better not be some fuckin’ kid or I’ll shoot your balls off.” He opened the door to find a man in suit. He narrowed his eyes at the little North side faggot.

“Terry Milkovich?”

“Who the fuck wants to know?” he replied.

“Are you Terry Milkovich?”

“Yeah, I’m Terry Milkovich. Tell you-“

“Terry Milkovich, you’ve been served.”

The envelope was shoved at his chest, the North side bitch taking two steps at a time to get off the property.

“Fuckin’ bullshit!” he yelled, before picking up the envelope that had dropped to the ground. He opened it and scanned the document. “What the fuck?” he mumbled under his breath. When he saw three names listed on the Order of Protection. His grandson one of them. He saw fucking red. 

*****

They had been moving all day, and it had been a real family affair. Lip, Carl and Debbie, along with Kev and Vee had all chipped in. They couldn’t thank Kev enough for the use of the van, which saved a shit ton of money on hiring a moving truck. Yev had more stuff than anyone, however once they arrived at the house, they realised they didn’t have all that much in the bigger space. 

They fed everyone pizza, thanked them and said their goodbyes before heading upstairs to set up Yev’s room. Yev had napped on the sofa during the afternoon and was now wide awake and excited all over again. 

“Ok bud, you unpack your toys while Daddy and I get your bed organised,” Mickey instructed.

“Ok Papa. I will start with my dinosaurs,” Yev said, pulling out one dinosaur at a time. “Rex says this place is awesome, and he likes his new room.”

Ian gave Mickey that goofy heart-eyes smile as they put the bedframe together. 

“You ever feel like we’re living in a dream and we’re gonna wake up and be back in prison?” he asked Ian. They lifted the mattress and placed it onto the frame.

“I try real hard to stay in the moment these days. Prison taught me that.” Ian picked up the sheets, and they started making the bed. “As corny as it sounds, each day feels like a fucking gift now. But I know what you mean, it’s hard to escape that expectation that everything will go to shit.”

“Do you think Terry’s been served yet? You think he’s gonna turn up for the court date?” he asked, moving over to Yev’s clothes boxes and starting to put them away.

Ian started helping Yev with his toys, the boy now distracted and playing with his dinosaurs. “He must have been served by now Mick, the hearing’s next Thursday. And he has to turn up—it’s a court order.” 

“Well you know Terry, he does whatever the fuck he wants.”

*

Later that night when Yev was fast asleep in his new room, Mickey stood in the empty third bedroom, deep in thought. When Ian placed a hand on his back, he jumped at the touch. “Fuck, you scared me,” he said, looking over his shoulder.

“Sorry. You ready for bed?” Ian asked, wrapping his arms around him from behind. “It’s been a long day.”

He placed one hand over Ian’s hand and turned his head to press his lips to his husband’s while cradling his face. “The longer we have Yev, the less I understand Terry. I always knew he was the worst fuckin’ father, but now when I look at Yev I just can’t…” Mickey didn’t know how to explain what he was feeling. How could Terry love him so little and hate him so much? They hadn’t had Yev for long, but he could feel his love and desire to protect the boy growing with each passing day. Rejecting his son was incomprehensible, yet his own father did it to him time and time again. 

“It’s the same for me too.” Ian turned him around, so they were facing each other. “When I think of Frank disappearing on a bender and leaving us when we were little. Now I look at Yev and he’s so vulnerable. I can’t imagine choosing alcohol over reading him a story or making his breakfast.”

“I can’t imagine hitting him or calling him a fuckin’ pussy for crying.”

“Mick, you’re doing a great job. We just got to love him, and we can do that.” Ian took his hand and led him out of the room. “Now let me love you.” 

“Corny motherfucker.”

They climbed the stairs and slipped quietly into their new bedroom. They silently shed their clothes, eyes gazing upon each other, before sliding into the clean sheets. Ian rolled on top of him, their legs tangling together as their lips met.

*****

Ian was almost as excited as Yev when they approached the baseball field on Saturday morning. Leaning in, he whispered into Mickey’s ear, “Hopefully he won’t piss on first base.”

“Well don’t give him any ideas,” Mickey replied, smirk on his face. “Don’t want him taking after his Pops anyway.”

“Hope he does take after his Pops,” he replied, smiling fondly at his husband.

They entered the gate, Yev stopping and pointing at Clara standing over by the dugouts. “Papa, Daddy, can I go over there with Clara?” 

“Go little man. Give ‘em hell,” Mickey said, ruffling Yev’s hair.

Ian looked at the dugouts, the memories rushing in all at once. The first time they had fucked there, they had still been boys. He remembered how full of hope he’d been about joining the army. Already crazy in love with Mickey. Then the second time, only a few years later, all remnants of childhood innocence already lost. Trying to find their way back to each other, only to have it snatched away hours later. He realised Mickey was studying him. He pulled his eyes off the dugout and back to his husband. 

“Right there with you, Firecrotch,” Mickey said, voice soft.

He felt tears prickle at his eyes hearing the old nickname. Mickey didn’t use it much anymore, but it never failed to make him sentimental. 

A voice from the bleachers pulled them out of the past. “Mickey! Ian! Over here,” Teagan yelled, waving them over. They headed across, content that Yev was ok, standing in a huddle with the coach and other kids.

“Don’t act like a jealous bitch, Gallagher. We don’t want to make a scene in front of Yev,” Mickey warned.

“Told you. I’m cool now,” he replied.

Teagan was standing with another mom who he hadn’t met before. 

“Hey Teags, how you doing?” Mickey asked, accepting a hug from Teagan.

Who was this man and what had he done with his husband? 

“I’m great, Mickey. How are you, Ian?” Teagan asked, turning to hug him too. “Mickey, Ian, this is Megan…” Megan moved in closer and wrapped her arm around Teagan’s waist. “My girlfriend.”

He looked at Mickey, then Teagan, then Megan, then back to Mickey. Mickey had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. He’d been fucking had. Guess Teagan meant it when she said she was done with men. He grabbed Mickey by the arm and pulled him in close. “You knew about this all along, didn’t you? That whole fucking time I was jealous you knew she had a girlfriend?”

Mickey chuckled before looking him up and down. “Let’s just say I like how you fuck me when you get all possessive and shit.”

Fuck, Jesus Christ. His cock was getting hard at a kid’s baseball game. He was about to grab Mickey’s ass when Teagan spoke, “Hey, does Yev want to come for a sleepover tonight? You guys must be tired after the move and you get to have some…alone time.” She winked at them.

They both looked at each other, taking about zero point five seconds to see the benefits of a sleepover. Mickey answered, “Yeah, that would be great. Yev will be so excited, he’s already asked about having Clara over for a sleepover now he has his own room. Next weekend we can return the favour so you two can do whatever lesbians do.”

The game was nearly over, and it was a tie. Yev was on 2nd base, Clara was on 1st, and they had one kid left to bat. And he was the best kid in the team. If he could hit that ball, maybe Yev could make it to third and then keep running all the way to home base. Ian could see Mickey was a bundle of nerves. He had been getting more and more worked up throughout the game - complaining about the coaching, about the other kids, and getting more and more vocal. For someone who had no interest in sport, it surprised him to see Mickey turning into one of _those_ parents.

The pitcher threw the ball, and the player hit it hard. They all started running. Yev was pumping his little arms, a determined Milkovich look on his face. As he rounded 3rd base, the kid guarding 3rd—who was about twice the size of Yev–stepped right in front of him and sent Yev flying. Yev landed hard. Ian could see their boy trying not to cry as he looked at his bloody knee. He was about to run out and help when he realised Mickey had lost his shit.

“Get that fat fuck off the field! Why is he even playing? What is he fuckin’ fifteen? He did that fuckin’ deliberately. Dirty little shit!” Mickey was yelling, arms waving around. The kids looked scared, and parents looked horrified—some covering their children’s ears. 

“Jesus Mick! Calm the fuck down,” he said, standing in front of Mickey and getting a tight hold on his shoulders. “You’ll get Yev kicked off the team!” Mickey finally looked at him, registering his words.

“Fuck. Shit! Is he all right?”

Ian looked over and Teagan was tending to Yev’s knee. “Yeah, he’s fine. Probably fucking embarrassed though.” Just when he thought he had it under control, a man started yelling from behind them.

“What the hell did you call my son?” 

Ian turned to see a very large man, tall and wide, pointing at Mickey and face red as a tomato. “Mick,” he warned, placing his hand on his husband’s chest.

“What the hell did I call your son? A fat fuck! Cos, that’s what he is. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?” Mickey was trying to get past him. “One too many Big Mac’s, huh?”

“Better than being a little twinkle toes homo like you,” the fat fuck’s dad replied.

Ian let go of Mickey, turned around and stepped in chest to chest with fat fuck’s dad. “What the fuck did you just call my husband?” he spat out, right up in his face. Fat fuck took a step back, looking from him to Mickey and back again. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. One more fucking word and you’ll get your ass handed to you by a faggot.”

Fat fuck retreated, along with the crowd, as the referee and Yev’s coach approached them. Mickey got himself a first and final warning. If he ever pulled that shit again, he would be banned from all Yev’s games. Teagan said it was the most exciting thing she’d seen all year, putting an end to the tension and making them laugh. Ian was glad when Mickey took Yev aside and apologised for what he’d done. Mickey kissed his son on the head and pulled him into a hug. It may have been their first parental fuck up, but it wouldn’t be their last.

*****

Later that night, they were lying together on the sofa, watching Under Siege and pissing themselves laughing. They were so fucking high. The joints must have been potent as shit. 

“Remember when you thought Van Damme was hot? What the fuck Ian?”

“Seriously Mick? You had a Segal ponytail kink,” Ian said, laughing so hard he fell off the sofa onto the floor with a thud.

“The only hair kink I got is for redhead’s,” Mickey replied, dropping down on top of Ian, straddling his hips, but facing away in reverse cowboy. He started grinding away on Ian’s half hard dick. “Ian? Where the fuck are…” He looked around, realising he wasn’t facing Ian. “Ah fuck.” He shuffled around to face his husband, leaning forward so he could run his fingers through Ian’s hair. “You were thinking about when we were kids and fucked at the dugouts today, weren’t you?”

Ian cradled his face with both hands. “Yep. Especially when we were just kids. That time when you got out of juvie the first time. Remember? We did it twice.”

Mickey started rocking his pelvis. “Yeah I remember—I fuckin’ couldn’t walk the next day after two ‘spit’ fucks.”

“You wanna go fuck at the dugouts now?” Ian asked, thrusting up as he kneaded Mickey’s ass cheeks.

“You fuckin’ serious? Aren’t we too old for that shit?”

“Never too old for fucking Mickey. Grab the lube. Let’s go, I’m so horny for your ass.”

They jumped over the fence, taking longer than the last time they did it. They were giggling like two fucking teenage girls. 

“Do some pullups Mick. You look sexy as fuck and make sure you grunt like you did that night,” Ian said, palming Mickey’s cock through his jeans. Mickey jumped up and started doing some pullups. Ian suddenly dropped his sweats and started stroking his shaft, tongue licking over his lower lip, eyes scanning over his body.

“Fuuuck, Ian.” He dropped down, closed the distance between them and attacked his husband’s mouth with his own. Feeling Ian’s monster cock rutting against him, sent him to his knees. He licked up the length, then started swirling his tongue around the head and into the slit.

“Mickey I was already so in love with you back then. Just wanted you to admit something, anything,” Ian said, moaning through his words. 

Mickey stood up, replacing his mouth with a hand. The other hand rolling Ian’s balls gently. “You knew. I was so fuckin’ horny for you. Wanted you in me day and night.” He captured Ian’s lips again, kissing him slow, tongues lapping at each other. “You knew I came to work at the store just to be around you. I’ve always loved you, Firecrotch.”

Mickey knew that would do it. The pet name. Ian stripped him of his jeans, slicked up two fingers with lube and bent him over in the same way, in the same spot. After a quick prep job, Ian was thrusting into him with the frantic rush of a teenage boy. He pushed back onto Ian’s cock, allowing himself to moan loudly with every brush of his prostate. Who gave a fuck if they got caught now? He certainly didn’t. Fucking free. 

*

Later that night when their high had worn off, and they were in their bed with the lights turned off, Mickey rolled on top of his husband and whispered into the dark, “It turned me the fuck on today when you said ‘what did you just call my husband?’ I like belonging to you. Tough guy.”

They made out for hours, rolling around in the sheets, stroking, caressing, licking, kissing. Sleep finally taking them as their ‘I love you’s’ washed over their satisfied bodies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who hasn't read it - I would love you to check out my completed fic "Shall we Dance". I put my heart and soul into it that fic and am now working on it's sequel ("Dance Partners')  
> Stay safe!   
> Rachael


	8. The Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day of the court hearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the slow update - I HAD to do two chapters in a row of 'Dance Partners' as they were so linked and needed to be written consecutively   
> For this chapter:  
> I did research about the Illinois Order of Protection, but it was difficult to get details. As I'm from Australia I kind of tackled this with my knowledge of intervention orders (which is the equivalent and what we have here). So please excuse inaccuracies and incorrect legal jargon.   
> Thanks heaps for reading!   
> Rachael

Mickey was trying hard to eat his fucking breakfast. It was Thursday. Their hearing was scheduled for 11am. Another wave of nausea hit him, so he stood up and dumped his uneaten cereal in the kitchen sink. He was worried about Ian. The last few nights his husband had tossed and turned, struggling to sleep. When Ian had received a letter saying his EMT hearing was next week, he had been very excited. But had he been fucking too excited? Not sleeping well was a normal reaction to all the changes they had experienced of late. Maybe he was looking at it too closely. 

Ian had managed his bipolar so well in prison that Mickey had all but stopped worrying about it. The rigidity of the prison routine seemed to help - Ian was administered his medication daily, and he had a prison job he enjoyed. It sounded fucking insane, but Ian had remained stable throughout his sentence. He decided that if he saw any more changes, he would bring it up and he would get Ian to the doctor.

He grabbed Yev’s lunch off the bench and put it in his son’s backpack before heading towards the front door. “What’s taking you two so long? Time to hit the road. Let’s roll,” he yelled up the stairs.

Yev appeared at the top of the stairs, looking sad as shit. Ian following close behind with a frown on his face. He didn’t feel like dealing with anymore bullshit today. This court hearing was fucking with him more than he would ever admit. “What’s with the long face bud?” he asked when Yev made it to the bottom of the stairs.

“So-kay Papa. I talked to Daddy, and he said you two have somewhere ‘portant to go today and to tell you tomorrow,” Yev said putting his backpack on.

He looked at Ian for clarification.

“He’ll be ok. We’ve talked about it and we’ll all talk about it together later. Let’s go, or we’ll be late for drop off,” Ian said as he opened the front door and hustled everyone out.

*

They were outside the courthouse, on their second smoke, as they kept their eyes peeled for any sign of Terry. Mickey didn’t want any surprises. Geneva and Sandy were both giving evidence, and they were inside already. Sandy had moved into the Gallagher house with Debbie a few nights ago—claiming she wanted to move in with her girlfriend—so Terry wouldn’t be suspicious about the real reason she was leaving. Kev was also giving evidence and had better not be fucking late. Part of Mickey felt like a fucking pussy for doing this. It felt like a form of snitching. This wasn’t the way he was brought up. Wasn’t Southside. But he guessed that was the fucking point, wasn’t it? If he wanted a better life for Yev, then he had to let go of how he was brought up. Ian passed the cigarette back to him. “What the fuck was up with Yev this morning?” he asked.

Ian smiled and rolled his eyes. “Your son inherited your jealous streak. Some little shit named Simon is trying to move in on Clara.”

He passed the cigarette back to Ian, unable to stop himself laughing as he blew out the smoke. “You serious? Fuck. Is it time to teach him how to fight?”

“Fuck no! It’s his first crush. And he’s six! I don’t think we should teach him to beat up the competition.”

“Why not? Every time I beat the shit out of my competition it worked.” He looked Ian up and down and licked his lips. 

“Yeah well that’s cos I knew it was the only way you could tell me you loved me,” Ian said, moving in close and flicking away the cigarette butt.

“Is that fuckin’ so, is it? Wasn’t cos you were a slut?” he teased, tilting his head to one side and looking up at his husband.

Ian grabbed him by the hips and pulled him in, so their bodies were flush. “Pretty sure it was because you were a possessive jealous bitch.”

He placed his hand behind Ian’s neck and pulled him down so he could whisper in his ear, “Well it worked, didn’t it? Got a ring on your finger, bitch.”

“Fuck, he’s here,” Ian said, breaking the moment. 

Mickey turned to look. “Why the fuck is he here on his own? Thought he’d have some of his goonies in tow for sure.”

“Look, there’s Kev arriving too. Let’s go inside and make sure Sandy is ok. Hearing starts in ten,” Ian said, grabbing his hand and leading him toward the front of the building.

They met up with Kev at the entrance and went in as a united front. They couldn’t see Terry, so went straight to the allocated courtroom and took seats next to Sandy and Geneva, waiting for their case to be heard.

At 10.58am Terry waltzed in like he owned the fucking joint, pausing next to them before uttering under his breath, “You two fuckin’ faggots are dead,” then sitting across the aisle. Ian had leant across in front of him during the exchange, presumably trying to block Terry’s view, then laid a hand on his thigh. 

He was seeing red and working hard at not reacting. He hadn’t seen Terry since that day outside the Gallagher house when they’d pulled guns on each other, and it was still too fucking soon. He had promised Ian he wouldn’t do anything stupid. They needed this for Yev’s sake and starting a fight with his prick of a father would not achieve that. 

“Application number 3666 for a Plenary Order of Protection. Mikhailo Milkovich seeking order against Terry Milkovich. Parties please step forward.”

He stood up and made his way down to the front at the bailiff’s direction. Ian and the others taking seats behind him. Terry was directed to the other table. The judge was a woman, and she seemed stern but efficient. 

“Gentlemen, I expect you to be cordial at all times throughout this hearing. I understand these proceedings are difficult but keeping one’s emotions in check will ensure the matter is dealt with swiftly and justly.” As the judge was talking the reality of the situation sank in. He tried to focus in on what she was saying.

“I have read through the petition at length. First, Mr. Mikhailo Milkovich – may I call you Mikhailo?” He nodded yes. “This order requests that your husband, Mr Ian Gallagher, and your son, Yevgeny Milkovich be included as they are also at risk. Are they present in the court today?”

“My husband, Ian, is here,” he motioned behind him as Ian half stood up, “but my son is in school today.”

“Mr Gallagher, could you please come through and sit with your husband.” The judge turned to face Terry. “Terry Milkovich - Mikhailo Milkovich has requested a Plenary Order of Protection be issued against you due to a series of violent and homophobic acts committed against himself and his husband. I will hear evidence today and then I will rule on the matter. Do you have any questions?”

“He’s got no fuckin’ right to put my grandson on that paper. Two faggots shouldn’t be allowed to have a kid,” Terry snarled out.

“Mr. Milkovich, may I remind you, you are in a court of law and I will not tolerate your profanity or homophobic slurs. Please refrain from such language or I will hold you in contempt. Considering your long criminal record, I should think you would be more familiar with what’s expected.”

The judge turned back to address Mickey. “Mikhailo, I have read both the 2013 assault and battery police report and the 2020 drive by shooting report. I understand you have witnesses that may speak further to these incidences. Let’s begin with the most recent. Could Sandy Milkovich please step forward?”

Sandy made her way down to the front. Mickey was glad the hearing was less formal than criminal cases, but it still scared the shit out of him. The judge asked a series of questions to Sandy regarding the probability of Terry being behind the drive by shooting during their honeymoon…

“Sandy what makes you believe that Terry was the perpetrator of the drive by shooting?”

Sandy looked over at Terry, staring him down. “I was living at Terry’s house before Mickey and Ian got married. Terry was pissed that Mickey was getting married to a man. He kept saying he would stop the wedding and that he would kill Mickey if he went through with it. On the day of the wedding, the reception place was burnt down, and the building was graffitied with a picture of two gay men and a gun pointing at them. It was obvious it was Terry. I also want to say that when we were growing up Terry was always hitting Mickey and accusing him of being a faggot. I saw him beating the shit, excuse me, beating Mickey real bad plenty of times.”

“Thank you, Miss Milkovich. You may step down. Could Geneva Rousseau please step forward?” 

Geneva was an excellent witness, determined and convincing. She talked about being outside their wedding when Terry had turned up, gun in hand. He loved hearing the story about all Ian’s gay Jesus followers forming a guard outside the wedding venue. The look on Terry’s face must have been fucking priceless. 

The judge then moved onto the 2013 Alibi assault and battery report. 

“I would like to hear from Mr. Kevin Ball, owner of the establishment and witness to the altercation.” The judge instructed.

Kevin seemed nervous when he made his way up to the front of the courtroom, smiling way too much and asking the judge how she was doing? But his testimony was simple and to the point, just like Kev…

“Your Honour, it went down like this. Mickey announced to the bar that he was gay, a big ol’ mo, then Terry flipped a table, screamed at Mickey ‘I’m gonna kill you,’ then started beating the shit out him.” 

“Language Mr. Ball.”

“Sorry. Ian tried to defend Mickey and got the shit kicked out of him too. Sorry again Your Honour,” Kev apologised, looking like a chastised five year old.

Mickey wanted this fucking over with. It was taking too long. Terry was sneering at him and mumbling under his breath. He couldn’t hear him, but he didn’t need to to know what he was saying. Ian had one hand resting on his thigh under the table but it wasn’t helping cos all he could see was Ian’s leg continuously bouncing up and down the entire time. Ian would speak next for sure. Fuck.

“Mr. Gallagher, do you concur with Mr. Ball’s testimony?” the judge asked.

“Yes I do, Your Honour. But I want to speak more about an incident that involved Mickey and me in 2012.”

Mickey thought he was going to fucking die. What was Ian doing? There was no need to bring this up. They had two police reports to back up their claims. “Hey,” he said to his husband, tugging on his arm. 

Ian turned to him and whispered, “Trust me.”

“Please proceed, Mr. Gallagher,” the judge prompted.

“I was 16 at the time and Mickey was 18. We were in a secret relationship because of Terry. Mickey always knew that Terry would try to kill him if he found out he was gay. And Mickey knew I was in danger from Terry if he found us together. And that’s exactly what happened. When he found us Terry attacked me first, then Mickey tried to defend me, which resulted in Terry beating him senseless. I watched Terry pistol whip Mickey unconscious. His own son. I have watched Terry threaten and abuse Mickey for the better part of a decade. Now we have custody of Mickey’s son Yevgeny and we want to protect him. I want to protect my husband. His son needs him and so do I.”

Mickey felt a lot of fucking emotions hearing Ian’s words. 

“Mikhailo, would you like to make a statement at this time?”

He needed to pull himself together. He heard Terry mutter ‘fuckin’ pussy’.

The judge looked sharply at Terry. “Mr. Milkovich, if you have something to say please address the court and not Mikhailo. Final warning.”

Mickey stood up, took a deep breath and glanced at Ian for reassurance . “Your Honour, Terry will never let this go. I could stand here and talk all day about all the shit…sorry excuse me… the stuff he has done to me over the years because I am gay. This sorry excuse for a father has tried to ruin our relationship,” he motioned to himself and Ian, “time and time again. He will never let me be happy. But now we are married, and we are trying to make a life for ourselves and our son. And I want them to be safe. We want to live our lives without looking over our shoulders every day.” 

He didn’t know what else to say. Terry was fucking chuckling away like it was the funniest fucking thing he’d ever heard. He wanted to fuck him up. Blow his fucking brains out. Chop him into little fucking pieces. He felt Ian take his hand and gently pull him back down into his seat.

“Thank you Mikhailo. Mr. Milkovich do you have any evidence or witnesses to present in defence of the claims made against you?”

Terry stood up, hands going to his hips and puffing his chest out. “No, I don’t have any witnesses. Shouldn’t need any. It’s a father’s right to discipline his son. And Mickey needs a beatdown to see sense. No son of mine is gonna be a faggot. And my grandson shouldn’t be brought up by two queers. It’s not fuckin’ norm-.”

“Mr Milkovich, if you cannot refrain from using hate speech then I will have you removed from my courtroom. Please sit down.” The judge shook her head before continuing, “The police reports, along with the supporting witness statements, demonstrate a history of abuse that is still ongoing. I believe that Mikhailo Milkovich, his husband Ian Gallagher and their son Yevgeny Milkovich do indeed have every reason to believe their safety is at risk. Therefore, I grant the Plenary Order of Protection for the maximum time period of two years, effective immediately.” The judge looked to Terry. “Terry Milkovich, please stand up. You will no longer have any contact in any form with the petitioners—this includes in person or via any digital platform including phone or social media. You must remain a minimum distance of 600 feet at all times, and this includes the petitioners’ home address, places of employment and the child’s school. Violating this order will result in criminal charges being bought against you. I need not remind you Mr. Milkovich that you are currently on probation and that will increase the likelihood of further incarceration time should you violate this order.”

The judge turned to look at him and Ian. “Gentleman I wish you all the best. We are adjourned.”

Ian pulled him into a hug not reacting for a few seconds before finally wrapping his arms around his husband and letting himself be held. He didn’t want to look at Terry. They thanked Geneva and Kev for being witnesses and he hugged Sandy. He was worried about Sandy now too. But fuck it, they would start their business with Terry’s money. 

After a few minutes they started out of the courtroom, hoping that Terry was long gone. He wasn’t. Terry lunged forward, slamming Ian into a wall.

“You think I give two fucks about a court order? Or going back to prison? You fucked up my son’s life, and you gonna fuckin’ pay,” Terry spat in Ian’s face.

He grabbed at Terry, ripping him away from Ian, then Kev stepped in and pushed the motherfucker back up the corridor. He went to pursue, his words coming out in a tangled scream, “You fuckin’ come near him I will bury you, you motherfucker. You hear me? You’re fuckin’ dead!” Ian was holding him from behind, in a vice like grip and pulling him in the opposite direction. A security guard approached Terry and put a stop to his advances. Ian pulled him out of the building and around the corner, his head swimming in a sea of hatred. 

*****

They were sitting at the kitchen table and Ian was watching his husband carefully. Mickey was still silent. He would not push it. Not yet. To be honest, he couldn’t believe Terry had done that in the courthouse. It seemed obvious to him now, that in time, Terry would break the order. He wanted Terry to follow through with his threat. He had no reservations in defending himself and taking Terry out. Now the order was in place he felt sure he could, quite literally, get away with murder. 

“Mick? Mickey? You want a beer?” he asked.

“Ian, I think we should all have the same name. Like a real fuckin’ family.” Mickey finally looked him in the eye.

“I think so too. I’ll get the forms and I’ll do it. I know I always joke about you being a Gallagher but now we’ve got Yev it makes sense for me to change my name.”

“No Ian. Me and Yev will change our names to Gallagher. I want nothing to do with that motherfucker. Least of all have his fuckin’ name.”

Ian watched Mickey’s eyes well up with tears, before taking the heels of his hands to his eyes to stop them. Or hide them. His heart broke. How much pain did Mickey have to endure? He didn’t fucking deserve any of it.

“Fuck Ian, have we done the right thing?” Mickey asked, talking down to the table.

He reached out and took Mickey’s hands, forcing his husband to look at him. “We did. The only thing that’s changed since yesterday is that now if he finds one of us and he tries anything he’s going back to prison.”

“Ian I can’t fuckin’ lose you. I’ve lost you so many times—I can’t do it again. I especially can’t lose you now I have Yev.”

“Mick you’re not gonna lose me.” He stood up and pulled Mickey up out of his chair, cradling his face with his hands. “We did the right fucking thing. You deserve to be happy.” He leant in and kissed him softly. Mickey backed him up against the kitchen bench and he opened his mouth to welcome his husbands’ tongue. They kissed for a long time, standing in their kitchen, bodies held tight together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to hear your thoughts on this chapter.  
> Kudos and comments always appreciated.  
> Stay safe everyone!


	9. Greener Pastures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts a little serious and then its all naughty fun! I think we need it after the last heavy chapter. For those of you who saw my post on the FB fan fic group about my "research" - you will probably find this chapter even more amusing.

Over the weekend, they were both quiet. They went to Yev’s baseball game and Mickey behaved himself. He didn’t want to be like Terry, all anger and nothing else. He spent a lot of time thinking about why Terry was disgusted at him being gay. Times had changed since he was a kid—most people didn’t give a shit anymore. So why did Terry? The knowledge that his father blamed Ian was coming through loud and clear. The confrontation at the courthouse reminded him of how Terry attacked Ian first all those years ago when he caught them. Terry wanted to cling to the idea that Ian made him gay. That maybe without Ian, Mickey would have turned out straight. He laughed out loud at how fucking ignorant his Pops really was.

Mickey had become real soft for Gallagher over the years. Truthfully, it started when Ian came back from the army; the loss having rocked him to his core. From then on it was a gradual process—dealing with Ian’s bipolar and losing him at the Mexican border were experiences that deeply affected him. But it was their prison time together that broke down all his remaining walls. They became co-dependent in there, and he also watched Ian fall in love with him for a second time. Yes, Ian loved him even when they were apart, but he wasn’t _in_ love with him the entire time.

Unlike Mickey, Ian seemed somehow able to put his love to one side when they were separated and then let the fire ignite the moment they saw each other again. So when Ian hesitated to sign the marriage license it had hit on something raw, because he was already ‘all in.’ Ready to belong to Ian and for Ian to belong to him. Watching Ian fall apart and fight for them meant everything. He understood Ian’s fears now; more importantly, he understood that marriage had eradicated them. Ian now accepted that Mickey loved him regardless of his fuckups and his imperfections. And there was something nice about being older and softer with each other. In the privacy of their room, in Ian’s arms, he didn’t have to prove his masculinity. Ian saw him for who he was and loved him. Having nothing to prove to someone was freeing.

On Monday he came home late and Ian and Yev had already started dinner. He kissed Yev on his head and his husband on the lips before he noticed Ian’s nervous-excited face. “What is it?” he asked, putting his dinner in the microwave.

“Look on the table Papa, there’s a letter for you,” Yev said, pointing to an envelope propped up against the ketchup bottle.

“Shit. Is that what I think it is?” he asked Ian, frozen to the spot.

“I think so. You going to open it?” Ian asked.

He picked up the envelope and turned it over in his hands, feeling his body break out in a sweat. “Fuck Ian, here, you open it,” he said, pushing the letter to his husband’s chest.

“Papa, can I open it? We hardly never get any mail,” Yev asked Mickey.

“Not this one, bud. You can open the next one,” he said.

Ian was pulling the letter out and unfolding it. He held his breath and chewed on his bottom lip. He closed his eyes, the anticipation leaving his legs weak.

“Mick, you got it! You fucking got it, Mickey,” Ian was yelling, as he stood up and pulled him into his arms. “So proud of you, Mick. You’re gonna have your own business.”

Mickey was overcome with so many emotions, having not really believed he’d get the grant. After last week’s shitshow this was turning out to be a much better week. He felt Yev’s little arms wrap around his legs. He separated from Ian so he could pick his boy up, Ian immediately wrapping them all up in his long arms. Mickey knew he would work his ass off. He would get his family out of Southside and build a better fucking life for his husband and son.

*

Mickey and Sandy started working on the business straight away—spending every spare second in the newly appointed office. They had office furniture, a laptop each and a business plan to follow. They were setting up a website, plus twitter, YouTube and Instagram accounts. Obviously, the website and twitter could contain explicit content and the other platforms needed to be toned down. Mickey was sourcing the gay products and Sandy the lesbian ones. They had samples ordered, and on their way. It was a fresh beginning, and he felt excited and hopeful.

*****

Ian was sitting with Mickey on one side and Sue on the other, while he waited to be called in for his EMT hearing. He hadn’t slept well the last couple of weeks and he noticed the way Mickey subtly watched his every move. Mickey probably didn’t know that Ian realised his husband regularly counted his pills, and while a small part of him would like to mess with the quantities to see what Mickey would do, he didn’t, because there really wasn’t anything funny about his bipolar after all the shit he’d put Mickey through. If he was being honest, it worried him he wasn’t 100% balanced. He hadn’t had a manic episode for a long time, but at some point, it would happen. For now, he was monitoring his own behaviour and would take himself to the clinic before it got out of hand.

He turned to Mickey, threading their fingers together. “Wish you could come in with me. I’m fucking nervous.”

“You got this, Gallagher. They’d be fuckin’ dipshits not to take you back,” Mickey said, squeezing his hand then quickly pressing their lips together. He knew Mickey was trying to be encouraging, but the worry he was hiding behind the smile was blatantly clear to Ian.

“Mr. Ian Gallagher?” a woman called out.

Taking one last glance at Mickey, he stood up with Sue and the followed the woman into the room. There was a panel of three, seated at a long table and a place for Sue and himself to sit facing them.

“Good morning Mr. Gallagher and thank you for coming in today. I am Barbara Kenny and I will oversee this hearing. This is David Stratton and Harold Roberts.”

“Morning Ms Kenny, Mr Stratton and Mr Roberts. Thank you for granting me this hearing.”

“Ok let’s get straight to it. We have read your file, including details on your mental health and your criminal conviction. We have also noted the high praises from your parole officer and his belief in your capacity to successfully return to your job. We granted this hearing because we do not believe you intended to cause any physical harm, but acted out of a need to protect vulnerable members of society. The issue here being your ability to manage your mental health. First, we would like to hear from Sue.”

Sue addressed the panel in her customary firm and direct manner. Ian couldn’t have asked for more and realised he had a true ally in Sue. Hearing her praise his dedication and natural ability for the job meant a lot.

“Mr. Gallagher, my question for you is, what have you learnt from your incarceration and what changes have you made to ensure the successful management of your bipolar disorder?” Ms Kenny asked.

“I think prison taught me to never take anything for granted. But it also helped me learn more about people. There are many kinds of people in prison and understanding the human experience is something that would help me perform my job better. I also worked in the infirmary, so I continued to hone my medical skills. Regarding my bipolar, my mother died, and I lost contact with someone I loved very much which caused me to stop taking my medication. Since then, I have found a doctor who I visit regularly, and I monitor myself for behavioural changes. More importantly, I got married and I have a stepson. My husband provides stability, and monitors my medication and behaviour. Being a husband and father provides a routine and purpose, which is essential to my mental health. I loved working as an EMT and I love helping people. I am committed to maintaining my mental health.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gallagher. We will deliberate on your case and you shall have our final decision within the next 14-28 days.”

*****

The following week the sample stock started arriving and Mickey would not lie—there was some kinky shit in the world. He used to think his anal beads were ‘out there’ when he was a teenager, but now standing looking at the ‘fucking machines’ and the BDSM stuff, he realised he was decidedly vanilla. Sure, they had a little collection of their own—dildos, butt plugs, some light bondage stuff and anal beads—but that was the extent of it. Their sex life was so fucking good they never needed any ‘help,’ but it did pique his curiosity.

“Hey Ian,’ he called from his office.

“What?” Ian answered from his spot on the living room sofa.

“Gallagher, get your ass in here I wanna show you something.”

A few minutes later his ginger waltzed in with a grumpy look on his face, which was then quickly replaced with a confused face.

“What the fuck is that?” Ian asked, pointing at the very elaborate fucking machine with the twelve-inch dildo. 

“That is a top of the range fucking machine,” he said, turning it on. 

“Holy fuck. You’re not going to try that, are you?” Ian asked with a disgusted look on his face.

“Why not?” He knew Ian would be highly insulted if he used a fucking machine instead of his dick. Holding his smile in, he continued to torture his husband. “It’s twelve inches—I’ve always wanted to feel what that would be like.”

“What the fuck, Mickey? You saying my nine inches ain’t enough for you? Don’t you dare fucking use that,” Ian said, getting mad.

“What not even if you’re working late and I’m horny as fuck? You know I sometimes use the anal beads without you?” He was struggling to stop himself from laughing, Ian’s face changing from angry to hurt as he shuffled from one foot to the other not knowing what to say next.

“Yeah but… this seems…Jesus Mickey it moves!” 

He was about to confess he was joking when Ian slammed him against the wall, pinning his arms above his head and attacking his mouth with his lips. What followed was a thorough fucking over his work desk with Ian thrusting into him like a man possessed and stroking his cock like the pro he was. His husband saying, ‘that fucking machine can’t make you feel like this,’ ‘you live for my cock,’ and ‘feel me cum inside you’ were all icing on the cake. 

Later that night in bed he confessed it was a joke - to which Ian promised him pay-back would be a bitch. He guessed it was game on. Over the following few nights, they tried out several products, some of which left them laughing until they had tears in their eyes. Watching Ian masturbate into the fake ass was both hilarious and perversely hot. When he tried out the ‘thrusting and swirling automatic masturbater’ he had to admit his own hand was lacking in skill. However, every product they sampled ended the same way—with them hot and heavy all over each other. It was fun, but nothing would replace the real thing.

*****

Almost a week after Mickey had tricked him with the fucking machine, Ian had his revenge planned and ready to execute. He had arranged for Yev to sleep over at the Gallagher house, Debbie more than happy to oversee a kid’s night with Frannie, Yev and Freddie. He had procured the toy of his choosing from Mickey’s office and was eagerly waiting to get started. He had been sexting Mickey all day long to get him in the mood. He needed his husband to be so turned on he couldn’t think straight. His texts started out flirty, then turned downright filthy before finally he was sending videos of what his husband was missing out on. 

When Mickey came rushing through the door, he was already flushed. Kissing him with a lot of tongue while he palmed him through his pants had him eating out of the palm of his hands. 

“I’m taking you out for dinner, so let’s get you changed,” he said.

“What? Thought we were gonna fuck? What was with all the texts?” Mickey asked, frustrated.

“We are. But I want to take you out to celebrate getting the grant. We haven’t celebrated properly yet. I made a reservation Mick,” he said, laying the guilt on thick.

“Jesus Gallagher. Fuck it, I’ll get changed then.”

Ian followed Mickey upstairs to their bedroom and sat on the bed as his husband changed. 

“Mick, I got you a little something I want you to wear tonight.”

“What is it?”

“It’s this,” he said showing Mickey the black anal beads rod. “Want you to wear it to dinner, so every time you move you think about how I will fuck you when we get home. And you’ll be all open and ready for me.”

Mickey’s eyebrows went up into his hairline and he palmed his cock. Ian eye-fucked his husband; cos it worked every time. Without another word, he slicked up the beads with lube, stood up and motioned to the bed. Mickey walked over, licking his lips, and dropped his boxers.

“Bend over and spread em, baby,” he instructed. He slowly inserted the rod, teasing Mickey by putting it in a little way, then pulling it out again until it was firmly in place.

Before long they were seated at the restaurant. It was fancy, and that was part of the fun. When the waiter came to take their order, he put his hand in his pocket, found the switch and turned on the vibrating anal beads.

“Fuuuuckk,” Mickey said, nearly jumping up out of his seat. He turned it off quickly, a smirk on his face. 

“Sorry what was that Mick? The waiter is waiting on your order,” he asked innocently. 

Mickey was looking at him like he would murder him - clearly having not understood the beads had a wireless remote.

“I’ll have the steak, extra ra-.” Mickey closed his eyes and bit down hard on his lip as soon as the vibration started up again. 

“He’ll have a large steak, extra rare. He likes it big and raw. Don’t you Mick?” he said, watching his husband trying to hold in his moans. Fuck, he was getting hard too.

And so the night went on. He would put it on, watch Mickey squirm in his seat, pleasure washing over him, then he would turn it off and Mickey would tell him to ‘fucking quit it or he would take it out.’ To that he told his husband, if he took it out he would not fuck him for a week, which shut him up.

By the time dessert came around, Mickey was on the verge of orgasm, his face hot, beads of sweat on his brow and eyes black. His own cock was rock hard, and he adjusted himself to get some relief. 

“Gallagher, I can’t stand up with this fuckin’ boner.”

“So get rid of the boner,” he replied as innocently as he could.

“How the fuck am I going to do that?” Mickey asked, exasperated. 

He raised one eyebrow in question, then turned it on again. Moans started escaping Mickey’s mouth as his eyes closed and his head lulled back. The people at the next table were looking at them. “He really loves chocolate fudge cake,” he told them.

He stood up from his seat and came around to Mickey’s side. 

“Eeeaaann, fuck, Eeeaaann” Mickey moaned.

He leant over, whispering into Mickey’s ear, “You are so fucking hot Mick. Love watching you cum.” Then he kissed him, licking into his mouth. Mickey tried so hard not to jerk too much as his orgasm flooded his body, but he groaned into Ian’s mouth and grabbed onto his shirt to steady himself. Ian was so turned on he almost jizzed in his pants too. 

He finally pulled his lips off Mickey when he knew his husband was done. “Shall I call for the check then?” he said, more satisfied than he ever thought possible. 

*****

Mickey had yelled at Ian for the vibrating anal beads but had since jerked off to the memory of it more times than he cared to admit. He was busy thinking of some way he could up the anti and get Gallagher back. In the most pleasurable, although embarrassing way possible. 

On the business front, Sandy had come up with the brilliant idea of making funny product review videos of the toys they would sell. Sandy and Debbie would do the lesbian toys and he and Ian would do the gay ones. At first, he wasn’t sold on the idea, but Ian thought it sounded like fun, so they gave it a go. The videos turned out fucking hilarious. They started posting them on their twitter page and one of them started trending. Imagine if Terry saw that. Touche, motherfucker! Their business was off and running and orders started coming in faster than they ever expected.

*

On Saturday night, they had Clara over for a sleepover. Yev seemed happy again, having scared off Simon in the sandpit. That’s all they could get out of Yev, the details rather sketchy. They hadn’t been called up to the school, so they figured he hadn’t bopped the other kid, but used some other means to keep him away from Clara. 

The night had been a lot of fun—they had pizza and then played a board game. Mickey had never done that before and he had to admit, he liked it. They were feeling more and more like a normal family with every passing day. Yev seemed happy and content. Yes, he still missed his mom, and there were days where they would sit and talk about her, or he would hold him while he cried. But those hard days were getting less and less. He had submitted the application to have his and Yev’s surname changed to Gallagher. It was a simple process for a married couple and Mickey being Yev’s only parent. He honestly couldn’t wait for it to be processed.

The kids were sitting on the floor in front of the T.V watching ‘Shrek’ and Ian and him were on the sofa enjoying a beer and sharing the same look of contentment. Ian was holding his hand and rubbing his thumb slowly up and down his skin. It was a small gesture, but it always made him soft for Gallagher, arousing him in the most addictive way. He licked his lips and gazed upon his husband, lust bubbling under the surface. 

A loud knock at the door jolted them out of the moment.

“I’ll get it,” he said, letting go of Ian’s hand and heading toward the front door.

When he pulled the door open, he was dumbfounded. “Mandy…”

“Hey asswipe, miss me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos sooooo appreciated!   
> The past 5 weeks in lockdown are killing me - although I appear to have become a full-time fan fic writer at this point. LOL  
> Thank you so much for reading!!  
> Stay safe!!  
> Rachael


	10. Hold on Tight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: violence  
> Apologies for the delay - I have been unwell the last three days and still on the mend.   
> Stay safe, Rachael

“Mandy, what the fuck? Where have you been, bitch?” he said, pulling his sister into a tight hug.

“Mandy? Mandy!” Ian said, wrenching his sister out of his arms and into his own.

Mandy stepped back to look at them both. “Heard you two dumbasses finally got your shit together and got hitched.”

“Where the fuck have you been? We wanted you to come to the wedding,” Ian said, smiling like a dork.

“Well, you two weren’t the only ones busy getting hitched,” Mandy replied, holding up her hand to display a large engagement ring and wedding band. “And who’s this little fella?” Mandy peered around Ian’s legs to get a better look at Yev.

“Mandy, this is Yev. Svetlana died, so he’s with us now,” he said, uncertain of what Mandy knew.

“Oh, my god. Yev. Yev as in my nephew Yev?”

“What you gotta another nephew named Yev? Yes your fuckin’ nephew,” he said, then turned to Yev coaxing him forward from behind Ian’s legs. “Yev, this is your Aunt Mandy.”

Mandy crouched down, so she was eye level with Yev. “Hey little guy, you’ve grown real big since I last saw you.”

“Did you know me when I was a baby too?” Yev asked, reaching out and touching her long black hair.

“Sure did,” Mandy replied, smiling at Yev and tickling him in the ribs. Yev started giggling, enamoured with his new aunt.

“You want to meet Rex? And see my room?” Yev asked, eyes wide with excitement.

“Of course, I do. Lead the way little man,” Mandy replied, Yev already walking her towards the stairs.

He looked at Ian and shook his head. “Is it me or is she avoiding telling us shit?”

“Just let Yev spend some time with her and then we can get to the bottom of it once he’s asleep. She looks good. Looks healthy.”

“Better not have married some asshole. She always had shitty taste in men. And how the fuck did she find us,” he asked, searching his pockets for his smokes. 

They went outside to share a smoke, while Yev played with Mandy upstairs. When they came back in, Yev had already coaxed Mandy into a game of dinosaurs on the living room floor. When it was time for bed, Yev put up a fight until Mandy promised she would visit again soon. Finally, it was just the three of them.

Mickey got straight to the point, “So how did you find us?”

“I went around to the Gallagher’s and Debbie told me you guys got married and moved here. Fucking proud of you two.”

“Thanks, we’re pretty fucking happy about it too,” Ian said smiling at Mickey before continuing, “So where have you been, who the hell did you marry and are you back to stay?”

“Jesus, straight into the twenty fucking questions. I’ve been in New York all this time. Married this guy named Brian. He was one of my best clients. He’s forty-five and loaded and I’m living the fucking life. He had business here, so I decided to come home and see you two fuckheads and Iggy.”

Mickey was pissed off at his sister and he wasn’t doing a good job of hiding it now he’d heard her story. “So you get married without telling anyone, don’t let anyone know if you’re alive or fucking dead and now you just come for a visit?”

“Mick..” Ian said, the warning clear in his tone.

“Nah Ian, fuck that. You’ve been worried about her too.” He stood up and started pacing the room. “So why show up fuckin’ now?”

“Mickey, I get that you’re pissed and I’m sorry I missed the wedding. I really am. Look, I didn’t want Brian to know where I came from. But I miss you fuckers and…well…I’m pregnant.”

Ian jumped up to congratulate her. Mickey was slower to do so. There was a lot of shit in Mandy’s words that didn’t sit well with him. He had missed his sister, and not having her at the wedding was a disappointment. He was also pissed he missed her getting married. Wasn’t he good enough? Something to be ashamed of? Well, fuck that! And now she’s pregnant. Gonna be an uncle and probably won’t ever get to see the little shit. 

“Congratulations Mick, you’re gonna be an uncle,” Ian said, kissing him gently on the cheek.

“So are you, or are you forgetting we’re married?” he snarked. Ian rolled his eyes at him.

They talked well into the evening, catching up, and he slowly felt himself soften. Mandy was only staying for a week. Brian and Mandy were in a 5-star hotel on the Northside and she wanted them to come and meet her husband. They planned dinner for Tuesday evening and exchanged numbers. She promised to stay in touch and visit more, and she invited them to come and stay in New York for the holidays. At around 11.30pm they put her in an Uber.

Once in bed, with Ian spooning him, he asked the one question that he had most wanted to ask but didn’t. “Ian, you think she’s happy?”

“Yeah, I do. At first I was worried because he was her ‘client’, but she looks more relaxed than I’ve ever seen her. She’s happy about the baby. Guess we’ll know more once we meet Brian.”

“On Tuesday we need to tell her about Terry. We should have told her tonight.”

“How about I call her tomorrow, in case she doesn’t want Brian to know.”

“Ok, thanks. Love you,” he turned his head and kissed Ian.

“Love you too,” Ian replied, pulling him in tight and nuzzling into his neck.

*****

On Monday afternoon Ian had just left work when his cell buzzed with an unknown number. He stopped to look at it, hesitated, then answered. “Hello.”

“Is this Mr. Gallagher?”

“Yes, it is,” he replied.

“This is Barbara Kenny calling to let you know the outcome of your hearing. Have I caught you at a bad time?”

“No, not at all,” he answered, feeling his heart rate quicken.

“Mr Gallagher, I am very pleased to inform you that you have been reinstated. I will email all the paperwork through tomorrow. We expect you will be assigned to a station within the next week or so. However, there will be a three-month trial period.”

“Thank you, Ms Kenny. Thank you. You won’t regret this.”

As soon as the call ended, he slumped over, hands on his knees as he tried to get his breathing under control. Fuck, he was so happy. _Mickey._

*****

Mickey and Yev came home Monday afternoon to find the letter he had been waiting for. The ‘change of name’ certificates. He and Yev were now officially Gallaghers. 

“Hey bud, guess what this is?” he asked Yev, showing his son his certificate. “Remember how we talked about us all having the same last name? Now we do. See,” he pointed to the name on the paper, “it says Yevgeny Gallagher.”

“Does that mean you’re Papa Gallagher now?” Yev asked. Mickey couldn’t help but laugh. Thank fucking Christ Ian didn’t hear that. _Ian._

_*****_

Ian’s first thought was to let Mickey know, so he called him. It went straight to voicemail, so he left a message. “Hey Mick, you’ll never fucking believe it—I got my job back. I’m gonna go pick us up a cake and Yev’s favourite takeout for dinner to celebrate. Be home in bout an hour. Love you.”

*****

Mickey grabbed his cell to call Ian, it went straight through to voicemail. “Ian the papers arrived. Looks like you do own my ass. Yev and I are officially Gallaghers. Get home soon. Wanna celebrate.”

*****

It was getting dark, so with the pizzas and cake box piled on top, Ian took the shortcut and turned down the alley close to their house. He couldn’t remember a time when he was ever this happy. Mickey’s business was off to a great, he had his job back, and they were doing a damn good job with Yevy too. He quickened his pace, not wanting the pizza to go cold. 

He noticed a ditch in the ground and swerved around it, careful not to drop the cake. Looking back up, he saw Terry’s face enter his peripheral vision and then felt a blow to his head. He wasn’t sure what hit him, but it fucking hurt and he felt himself falling. When he came to, the pain was excruciating. His chest felt like it was on fire and his vision was blurred. Clouds passed by, interlaced with blackness, just as Terry’s voice faded in and out like a badly tuned radio. ‘Faggot,’ ‘die,’ ‘cock-sucker’ all made an appearance. He was thinking what a consistent fucker Terry was—never deviating from the same fucking script…

*****

Mickey was worried. Ian’s phone was going straight to voicemail every time he called. He’d played Ian’s message about five times. His husband had said he’d be home in an hour and it had been over two. He’d wondered if Ian had dropped over to the Gallagher’s with the good news, but Debbie hadn’t sighted him. He rang The Alibi in case he dropped in for a drink and got carried away, but Kev hadn’t seen him either. He rang Mandy, Sandy and Lip and no one had heard from him. 

“Papa, when’s Daddy getting home, I’m hungry,” Yev whined from in front of the T.V.

‘Hopefully soon bud,” he replied, trying to sound calm.

He sent a text to Ian - _‘where the fuck are you man? Yev is hungry. Call me back. Love you.’_ He had a bad feeling in his gut and it was growing by the second. He wanted to take off on foot down to the pizza shop but it was dark out and he didn’t want to take Yev. He considered asking Sandy to come over and babysit. His phone buzzed. It was an unknown number.

“Hello,” he said with more anger than he intended.

“Is this Mickey Milkovich?’

“Yes.” He closed his eyes as if it would shield him from what was to come.

“Mr Milkovich, I am a nurse at Chicago Hospital and you are listed as Mr Ian’s Gallagher’s emergency contact. May I ask your relationship to the patient?”

“He’s my husband. Just tell me if he’s fuckin’ ok?”

“No need for bad language, Mr. Milkovich. They have brought your husband into emergency after being assaulted. He is stable but best to come down as soon as possible.”

He hung up without replying. Ordered an Uber and yelled at Yev to put his coat and shoes on. Yev was asking why, but he couldn’t find any words to fucking answer with. He could feel the anger flooding his body as it fought for dominance with his fears about Ian’s health. It had to be Terry. It had to be. That motherfucker needed to die. “Fuck!” he yelled as he punched a hole clean through the living room wall. Yev started crying. He tried to control his feelings, closed his eyes and breathed in. He didn’t want to scare Yev.

“Yev, I’m sorry bud, come here,” he called to his son, crouching down on one knee as Yev approached him cautiously. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry at you. Daddy has been in an accident, and he’s at the hospital so we need to see him.” He pulled Yev into a quick hug, then stood up and pulled them out the front door to wait for the Uber.

Once they were on their way, he called Debbie so the Gallagher’s could meet him at the hospital. Upon arriving, he had already decided Debbie could take Yev for the night while he finished what he should have finished before the wedding. He reported to the nurse’s station and was told to wait as the doctor would be out shortly. It took all his strength not to burst into the emergency ward and scream out his husband’s name.

He sat with Yev on his lap. His son’s arms clinging around his neck, big sad eyes staring back at him. “Papa, Daddy isn’t going to die like Mama did, is he?’ Yev asked, fresh tears running down his cheeks. 

“No bud. They said he was ok. He’s got a few bumps and bruises, but the doctors will fix him up ok?” he said, ruffling Yev’s hair and pulling him into his chest. If he got caught, he wouldn’t see Yev. He would be separated from Ian again. Fuck. He had never felt this conflicted before. His mind was firing too quickly, thoughts overlapping each other – a single thought never completed before another aggressively took its place. His heart continued to thump in his chest while blood ricocheted around his skull.

“Papa, don’t you get hurt ok,” Yev said, placing both hands on his face and looking straight into his eyes. 

“No I won’t. I promise Yev.” He placed a kiss to his son’s forehead. 

“Mr Milkovich?” a doctor announced to the waiting room.

“That’s me,” he replied, standing up and placing Yev down.

“Mr. Milkovich I am Dr. Miles and I believe you are Ian’s husband?”

“Yes, how is he doing?”

“All things considered, pretty good. We were worried about internal bleeding, but the scans have come back negative at this stage. He has two broken ribs, a broken nose, a split eyebrow which required stitches and a serious concussion. We will need to keep monitoring him over the next twenty-four hours. He was unconscious when he arrived, but he is now awake and asking for you. You can come through and see him, but he will need his rest.”

They followed the doctor down to Ian’s room. He thought he would be ready for what he would see, but the sight of his husband damn nearly broke something inside of him. Flashes of Terry attacking Ian all those years ago resurfaced as if they happened moments ago. Ian was black and blue, his nose swollen, one eye swollen shut and he was plugged into fucking machines. His ribs were taped up and bruising on his abdomen. 

“Mickey..” Ian choked out, reaching a hand toward him. Yev was silent at his side. He walked forward and took Ian’s hand in his, then leant forward and gently placed a kiss to his forehead, careful not to hurt him. 

“Was it him?” he asked.

He watched Ian hesitate to tell him and that was all the answer he needed.

*****

Ian was scared. Scared of losing his husband. His Mickey. He watched that look of fury pass across his husband’s face and then leave just as quickly. But he knew what it meant. And he couldn’t chase him down and cuff him like he did before their wedding. He slowly lifted Mickey’s hand up to his mouth and held it to his lips, breathing his husband’s scent before kissing him and lowering their hands back down. “Don’t.”

Mickey just looked at him. No words.

“Mick, please, I’m begging you. Don’t.” He could feel himself falling back into sleep. He was so tired. “Yev,” he said, trying to remind Mickey of all they had to lose. “Let the police,” he added as his eyes fell shut. He could feel Mickey stroking his hair back off his forehead. It was so calming.

“You sleep, Gallagher. Rest”

*

When he opened his eyes again, there were two police officers in the room. He panicked and tried to sit up, the pain exploding through his chest and putting him straight back on his back. “Mickey? Mick?” he called out, his eyes trying to find him.

“I’m here, Ian. I’m here,” Mickey said, suddenly in his line of vision and standing at his side. Warm fingers threaded through his.

“Please tell me you didn’t…”

“No, I didn’t.” Mickey leant over him so he could whisper. “I realised I love you so much more than I hate him.” 

He could feel the tears roll down the sides of his face as relief flooded his body. “I love you,” he said, reaching up to brush away the single tear that rolled down Mickey’s cheek.

“The officer’s want to know if you feel up to answering questions?” Mickey asked him.

“Yep I think so. What I can remember. Where’s Yev?”

“He went home to stay with Debbie for the night. It’s late, it’s 11.30. You’ve been asleep for a while. Everyone came to see you. They’ll come back tomorrow.”

*****

Mickey listened quietly while Ian answered the cop’s questions. He knew he had just promised Ian he wouldn’t go after Terry and it wasn’t an outright lie. But it wasn’t an outright truth either. If Terry got away with this, he would take care of it. Maybe he would take his time, plan, get someone else to do the deed. But for now, he would bide his time. For Ian’s sake. And for Yev’s sake.

Ian told the cops that Terry had jumped him in the alley close to their house and hit him with something. It seemed Ian didn’t have a chance, being knocked unconscious by the strike to his head or by his head hitting the ground. Then Terry went to work on him. Fucking animal. 

The cops had already interviewed two passer-by’s that had yelled ‘the cops are here’—causing Terry to flee and saving Ian’s life. They were also familiar with the alley Ian was attacked in, and said one of the shops that backed onto the alley had a CCTV camera. Based on what they had, they would pick Terry up on violating the order of protection while they gathered evidence to charge him with battery. 

Mickey was grateful when they let him stay the night in the hospital. They’d spent too many nights apart in the past. Not tonight. He placed the chair close to the bed so he could hold his husband’s hand. When it was deep in the night and Ian was sound asleep his body started to shake, and the tears began to fall. ‘Don’t ever fuckin’ scare me like that again Gallagher,’ he whispered, as he held on tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading - comments and kudos always very much appreciated!!  
> I'm looking for some friends on twitter - find me @dancelovermk


	11. Facing the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes somewhere that I believe these characters need to go (but the show doesn't allow them) I'm really happy with this and I hope everyone reading it is too. This fic has been a bit darker than I intended but there will be some lighter moments coming. For me this fic is like life - a mix of good and bad.  
> WARNING: please ensure you have read all the tags. This chapter involves discussion around a sensitive topic, but nothing explicit.

Mickey had put Sandy in charge of the business for a week while he nursed Ian at home. He had taken care of Ian’s paperwork for his EMT job and contacted them to sort out a later starting date. Fortunately, they were very understanding, and the news settled some of Ian’s anxiety. How Ian had not fallen into a depressive episode was beyond him and he spent his days flitting between his fears for Ian and his anger for Terry. Terry was being held for violating the ‘order of protection’ while on probation and they were expecting a visit from the cops with an update on charges. 

Yev was not doing so great. He was traumatised by Ian’s injuries and the fact that Mickey had told Yev that Ian was in an accident. At the time it seemed better than saying Ian had been beaten or attacked, but Yev knew his mom died in a car accident and it had resulted in nightmares and panic. For the first two nights they had woken to Yev screaming for Svetlana or Ian or both. The boy would sob uncontrollably and needed to be held until he tired himself out and fell back to sleep. On the third night Mickey put him in their bed, the nightmares continuing, but at least Yev could see Ian was there, and ok. The gentle words and hugs from Ian settled their son faster. 

When Officer’s Bennett and Myers turned up on the fourth day, Ian was getting around better, although still in a lot of pain. They all sat down at the dining table to hear the latest. Officer Bennett had kind eyes, flawless dark skin and was taller than Mickey. He liked her when they met at the hospital and he could tell she was determined to do right by their case. Officer Myers was middle aged and serious, but he seemed efficient. 

Officer Bennett took out her notebook and began, “Well we don’t want to get too ahead of ourselves but it’s looking good so far. The CCTV footage is clear, date stamped and captures the entire attack—Terry is facing the camera for the most part.”

Ian interjected, “What does it show? I can’t remember all of it - I was fading in and out.”

Officer Myers continued, “It shows that he was hiding in a doorway and lunged out at you, pistol whipping you just below the temple. That’s how your eyebrow got split open. You also hit your head when you fell. He then started punching you in the face and kicking you in the ribs and stomach. The next part is good or bad depending on how you look at it.”

Mickey looked at Ian and then back at Myers, waiting for the cop to continue.

“He then leant over and said something—we don’t know what, because there’s no audio—then he cocked his gun and aimed it Ian’s head.”

Mickey was up out of his seat so fucking fast. “Fuck!” he yelled before taking himself outside. He paced their small backyard, trying to get his shit together. Pulling out a smoke, he tried to light it, struggling against his shaking hands. A few puffs later and Ian called for him from the back door. He put out the cigarette and walked back into the kitchen, unable to look his husband in the eye.

He sat back down, looking at Myers. “So what’s the good fuckin’ part in that?”

Bennett leant across the table and gently touched his arm. “Mickey, it means we can charge him with attempted murder and probably make it stick. The two bystanders that called out and saved Ian’s life have already agreed to testify to what they saw and heard.”

“And what did they hear?” he asked, daring to glance at Ian sitting next to him.

“They heard him using threats and homophobic language.” Bennett turned her attention to Ian. “Ian, they may charge him with a hate crime as well. The case is strong. We will charge him with aggravated assault and battery and attempted murder by tomorrow at the latest. It will be up to the D.A if they add on the hate crime. Either way, I think he’s going away for a long time.”

Ian reached out and threaded their fingers together on the table. “Will I have to testify?”

Myers replied, “If he pleads not guilty, then yes.”

*****

The following day they were notified that they had laid the charges. It was unlikely bail would be granted in the circumstances, but Bennett promised to call them if it happened so they could take precautions. 

It was also Mandy’s last day in Chicago and they never made it to the dinner. Ian was happy when a knock came at the door and Mandy and her husband Brian were at their doorstep with Chinese takeout. Brian was good looking in the traditional sense. Black hair, strong facial features, tall and broad. Ian liked him straight away. Mickey seemed a little more cautious, but he expected nothing less from his husband. Brian was a criminal defence lawyer in New York and a successful one. Apparently, he liked his women strong and opinionated as his love for Mandy was obvious. He was so happy for his best friend and even more happy to have her back in their lives. After dinner, Mandy suggested Yev play in his room while the ‘grown-ups’ talk. He looked at Mickey to see if he knew what it was about, his husband shaking his head no in response. 

Mandy began, “I hope you two don’t mind, but I was fucking upset and angry after seeing Ian in hospital and I told Brian everything. About Terry and how he’s spent the better part of a decade trying to keep you two apart and make Mickey straight.” Mandy stopped and looked at them, perhaps waiting for Mickey to explode. He didn’t react so she continued, “Brian wanted to help and he knew he could.” Mandy turned to her husband, “Bri, you want to continue?”

Brian picked up with the story, “I went to college with Charles Dalton, the Chicago D.A. and we’re still good friends. Mandy and I had dinner with him and his wife last night and I brought up your case. He’s assured me he will make it a priority and get the hate crime added to Terry’s charges. Charles’ brother is gay, and he wants the chance to make an example out of Terry.” Brian pulled his business card out and placed it on the coffee table. “At any time during the process, you need advice or help or for me to lean on Charles more, then call me. I’ve been trying to get Mandy to Chicago for a while and now the baby is coming it’s important for her to have family around.”

Ian was lost for words and Mickey was too. He reached out and took Mickey’s hand, smiling at him. Mickey was quiet when he spoke, “Thank you Brian.”

Ian stood up and reached out to shake Brian’s hand, “Thank you Brian. This might be just what we need to finally put the motherfucker behind bars for good.”

Mickey joined him at his side. “And thanks for bringing my sis home.”

*****

It had been two weeks since the attack and Ian was feeling a lot better. The headaches had eased, he could breathe better as his ribs healed and he didn’t need to take as many painkillers. It surprised him he wasn’t having nightmares and panic attacks like Yev, but maybe they were still to come. Mainly he was grateful for being alive and the chance to have Terry out of their lives for a fucking long time. 

Yev was doing better and finally back in his own bed, although he still cried every morning as he wanted to stay home and not go to school. Ian felt guilty about Yev being traumatised again so soon after losing his mom. He knew it wasn’t his fault, but it sat heavy in his chest anyway.

Ian’s main concern was Mickey. Mickey had been ok the first week, throwing himself into the nursing role—making sure he had all his meds on time, helping him shower, feeding him and watching him like a hawk. Once Ian had started to recover, Mickey pulled back, shutting himself off from the world around him. And that included his husband. He didn’t know if the information the cops revealed—that Terry had been milliseconds away from shooting him in the head—or if it was something else, but it needed to stop. 

From experience, he knew a silent and withdrawn Mickey was the worst kind of Mickey. An unmovable stone. The lack of eye contact and refusing to talk about anything other than day-to-day tasks had him reliving the pain of Mickey shutting him out after Terry caught them all those years ago. And he didn’t fucking like it. Mickey had spent the last two nights at the Alibi and had come home drunk. Ian planned on putting a stop to it. Tonight.

*****

Mickey knew he needed to get his shit together, but he wasn’t sure why he was spiralling out of control in the first place. The worst was over—Ian was alive and would make a full recovery, Terry was behind bars and would most likely stay there for a long time, Mandy was back in their lives and Yev was doing better. So why couldn’t he look at his husband? He had spent the last couple of nights drinking, leaving Ian home alone with Yev. Ian’s patience was wearing thin, that was obvious, and he couldn’t blame him.

Dinner had been uncomfortable, with Ian and Yev chatting while he barely spoke. Ian was flashing him angry looks when he thought Yev wasn’t paying attention. He stood up from the table and put his plate on the sink. “I’m going to head down to the Alibi,” he said, with his back turned to Ian.

“No, you’re fucking not,” came Ian’s immediate reply.

“You’re not my fucking dad, Ian.”

“No, but I am your fucking husband,” Ian said standing up and joining him at the sink. “We’re going to watch a movie together, as a family, and then we’re going to talk.”

He grabbed two beers—for himself - from the fridge and made his way to the sofa without another word. After the movie he put Yev to bed, glad to get away from his fuming husband and delay the inevitable just that bit longer. He waited with Yev until he fell asleep before making his way back downstairs.

Ian was waiting on the sofa, T.V muted, leg bouncing with impatience or anger, he wasn’t sure which. He sat down at the opposite end of the sofa and waited.

Ian turned his body to face him, “Can you fucking look at me?”

He reluctantly turned and held Ian’s gaze for the first time in days. 

“You want to tell me what the fuck is going on with you?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know. I just…” He closed his eyes and rubbed his brow, trying to sort out the shit in his head.

Ian stood up and leaned over him, the pain of doing so clear on his face. “What? Me being alive and Terry going to prison isn’t good enough for you?” Ian was pissed.

Mickey stood up and pointed at Ian. “Now just back the fuck up. You being alive is an absolute fuckin’ miracle. It was YOUR idea to get the order of protection. You think I want to live my life as a fuckin’ widower? You think I can fuckin’ live without you Gallagher?” He pushed Ian aside, heading for the door and needing to get away. He couldn’t face this shit.

Ian grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around. “You are not leaving Mickey. We need to talk about this.” Ian’s face had softened, concern bleeding in with the anger.

“We don’t need to talk about it, Ian. You never fuckin’ listen anyway. You just do whatever the fuck you want.”

“That’s fucking bullshit and you know it.”

“Is it? Is it really? Because I remember telling you to stay the fuck away from me a long time ago so you wouldn’t get hurt. Right after Terry attacked you the first time when he found us fucking!” He was yelling now and fucking pissed.

Ian’s face screwed up. “What the fuck, Mick! You think I was gonna give up on you, on us, because of what Terry did?”

“Well you did fuckin’ give up, didn’t you? Hauled your ass off to the army and left me.” He knew that was a low blow and he hated himself for it.

Ian turned and walked across the room. “You really gonna bring that up now? That I left you? When you wouldn’t speak to me? When you went through with the marriage? When you beat the shit out of me?”

“Why the fuck do you think I beat the shit out of you? I was trying to save your life. To save you from all this shit.” He was waving his arms around, exasperated. “This shit that is MY fuckin’ life. My fucked-up family!” His chest was heaving up and down. He wanted to lay his fists into anyone, anything.

Ian frowned at him, his eyes filled with hurt. “But he’s not your family, Mick. I am.”

Ignoring Ian’s pain he continued yelling, “Us being together has always put you in danger. I don’t want that on my fuckin’ conscience. What sort of fucking husband, what sort of fuckin’ man, can’t protect the person he loves most?”

Ian started crying, then he exploded, “What sort of fucking man sits there and watches the person he loves get raped? Cos I sat there and did NOTHING! Nothing.” Ian was shaking, face red with anger and regret, the tears now pouring down his cheeks.

He dismissed it with an arm wave, “You were a fuckin’ kid Ian. You were sixteen.”

Ian rolled his head in frustration. “What the fuck difference does that make? I loved you and I failed you.” Ian hung his head down, defeated.

Mickey didn’t know how many times Ian could break him, but watching the shame on his husband’s face had his chest tightening around his tired fucking heart. “You’ve never failed me. I wasn’t fuckin’ raped. I did it to save my ass. And yours.”

Ian walked over to him as if he were trying to approach a scared animal, and then reached out, gently touching his fingers to Mickey’s cheekbone. Whispering through his sobs, Ian said, “Mickey, you were raped.”

Mickey wasn’t sure how long he’d been crying, but when a gut-wrenching sob filled the room, he realised the sound had come from him, and he felt the dampness on his shirt. Ian went to hold him, but he pushed him away, pressing a hand against Ian’s chest. He still had something to say. Something he needed to tell Ian. 

Raising his eyes to his husband, he breathed in deeply, trying to halt the tears. “The night before it happened…with just the two of us…was the fucking happiest day of my life back then. Actually getting to sleep next to you… to be held by you.” He slumped down on the sofa, taking his head into his hands, tears falling onto the hardwood floors. He felt Ian lower himself down onto the sofa, then strong arms were pulling him in. This time he went willingly, resting his head on Ian’s chest and wrapping his arms around his waist. Ian cradled his head and placed a kiss to the top of his head.

“It was the happiest day of my life too. It was when I knew for sure you loved me back.”

He pressed in under Ian’s chin and closed his eyes. “I was so done fighting you. Fighting loving you. I was finally ready to accept that we were together. I just can’t believe it’s been eight years and we’re still facing his bullshit. That you have to face it. You’ve paid a big fucking price to be with me.”

“Mickey, there’s no price I wouldn’t pay to be with you. We are family—you, me and Yev—he’s not your fucking family.” Ian paused, stroking Mickey’s back. “But I need to ask. When you look at Yev does it make you think about that day?”

He sat up so he could face Ian, then threaded their fingers together. “It did for a long time. It wasn’t until you ran off with Yev that I realised I loved the little guy. Something kinda clicked, and I realised he was fuckin’ innocent—just another victim of Terry’s.”

“Guess my bipolar was good for something then,” Ian said, smiling despite his red-rimmed eyes.

Mickey laughed, “You fuckin’ idiot.”

“Yeah, but I’m your fucking idiot.”

“You are, and I fuckin’ love you,” he said then placed his lips on Ian’s, the familiar taste grounding him.

“Love you too, Mick.”

They made their way upstairs and into their bedroom. They undressed each other, no words spoken, no words needed. Everything they needed to communicate could be done through sight and touch. Standing naked, they stopped to look at each other. They had blood-shot eyes and red noses. He ran his hand down Ian’s throat, across his chest, around his hip, finally grasping the curve of his ass. Ian cradled his face, tilting his head to the side then peppered open-mouthed kisses up his neck and across his jaw before capturing his mouth in a slow warm kiss. They kissed and kissed as if time stood still - lips sucking and biting languidly. Tongues swirling around each other, exploring gently and lovingly.

Later, when every inch of skin had been adored and worshipped, Ian entered him slowly, their eyes locked together in understanding. No other person on the earth knew Mickey the way Ian did, and he knew the same was true for Ian. Mickey welcomed the weight of his husband on top of him, as they rocked together, bodies flush. In that moment when they both came, he felt connected in every way—physically, emotionally and mentally. He pulled Ian in close, his husband nuzzling into his neck. A few tears slid down the sides of his face while Ian’s tears fell into the crook of his neck. 

Ian whispered, “Mickey, there’s no price I wouldn’t pay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter. To me this would only be the first step in a healing process for both of these men - but a start none the less.  
> Kudos and comments appreciated.  
> Stay safe,  
> Rachael


	12. Two Dads?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously I am using my creative licence when it comes to the details of criminal cases.

Terry pleaded not guilty to all charges. They didn’t attend the court hearing, but Sandy did so they would know straight away if it would go to trial. Mickey couldn’t believe what a dumb fuck his father was. How did he think he would get off with CCTV footage, witnesses, and a public defender? He knew they weren’t offering Terry a deal, so he guessed his Pops was just being a stubborn fuck. The ADA told them the hate crime charge would be hard to make stick and would gain media interest. Mickey wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He didn’t give a flying fuck if anyone knew he was gay, but he worried about the attention on Ian or if it would make its way to Yev. They had already been contacted for interviews and had not so respectfully declined. If a reporter turned up at their door, he would not be polite. So far they had kept the truth from Yev, revising the original ‘daddy was in an accident’ to ‘daddy had a work accident and fell.’

*****

Ian had been exhausted for days after their ‘fight’ that had turned into something else entirely. It had been a long time coming, and it had lifted a burden off his shoulders. Just saying it out loud and expressing what he had been carrying around all those years made it somehow more manageable. Watching Mickey break down had been fucking hard. He’d never seen him like that—so raw and exposed—but he was glad for it. Mickey always tried to tough everything out, push it down and get the fuck on with it, but they were fathers now and they needed to be better than that. Both of them. 

He was putting the dishes away when he heard Mickey come down the stairs after putting Yev to bed. He was starting back as an EMT tomorrow and he was nervous. They had delayed his start until his ribs were healed, so it was almost six weeks since the attack. He’d had the occasional nightmare, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Walking past the alley was something he had not yet attempted but realised he would need to face it at some point. If Terry was out, he might have felt differently, but he wasn’t, so he could remind himself he was safe and know it was true.

*****

Mickey had been doing a lot of thinking about the fragility of life. Nearly losing Ian had rocked him to his core, unearthing his deepest fears. He was glad they had finally talked about what had happened all those years ago. They needed it. He had never realised how Ian felt, never considered that he had felt guilt and shame for not being able to stop it. When you’re caught up in your own humiliation and pain, you never stop to think of anyone else. They should have talked back then, he shouldn’t have pushed Ian away, but he can forgive them both because they were just kids. He sees that now. 

Sometimes he wondered how different their lives might have been if he had said ‘don’t go,’ instead of just ‘don’t.’ That one extra word. But it was time to let it go and get the fuck on with life, and that was what he could take from Terry’s latest bullshit. He would not waste a single fucking second anymore. So he’d been lingering longer on Ian’s lips when they said goodbye, holding his husband a little tighter in bed and laughing at his lame ass jokes. He was reading two books to Yev instead of one, taking time to watch his son sleep and listening with complete attention to whatever his boy had to say.

Ian came back into the living room and handed him a beer. Yev was already asleep. They curled up on the sofa together, Ian spooning him from behind. He pulled a blanket over them and Ian nuzzled into his neck. He knew Ian was smelling him and that made him feel safe and content. Turning his head, he sought out Ian’s lips, his husband capturing his bottom lip and sucking gently. 

“You excited to start back at work tomorrow?” he asked, grabbing Ian’s hand and threading their fingers together.

“Yeah, and nervous as fuck,” Ian replied, before kissing the back of his neck.

“You’ll be fine. You were made to do that shit.”

He felt Ian smile behind him. “Well I do love that shit.”

They were quiet for a while before he brought up what was really on his mind. “Ian, what do you think about adopting Yev?”

Ian sat up onto his elbow and looked down at him, eyes wide. “You serious? You want that?”

“If you do. If something happened to me, I would wanna know he was gonna be ok. He calls you Daddy.”

Ian smiled like the dork he was. “Yeah, Mick, I’d like that. I already think of him as our son. Do you think he’ll want me to?”

“I do, but let’s ask him.”

*****

Ian had a great first day. He hadn’t been placed at his old station, but his new co-workers were welcoming, and he liked his boss. No one died on his shift, thank god, and he did good work. Yeah, his hands had been shaking on the first call-out but after that he settled and focussed on what he loved doing. It felt fucking good to be back.

Arriving home, he met Sandy on the front porch on her way home. Mickey and Sandy’s business was going from strength to strength and they were working long hours to keep up with all the orders. Ian loved seeing Mickey so involved and happy about a job. It also helped with their routine as Mickey could do school drop off and pickup now he had control over his work hours. Working from home also meant they didn’t need to find a babysitter for Yev. 

When he came through the living room he could hear Mickey and Yev chatting in the kitchen and the smell of dinner wafting through the house. “I’m home,” he called out, smiling at how domestic they had become.

Yev came running toward him, “Daddy how was your day in the ambulance?”

He welcomed Yev’s hug and then let him lead the way back to the kitchen. “It was great Yevy. How was your day at school?”

“It was awesome. Miss Berry took us outside for a game cos we all did so good on our math.”

Mickey was busy cooking at the stove but turned to accept his kiss, their arms snaking around each other as they took it a little further, tongues softly touching before pulling away. They kept their eyes on each other, drinking each other in with silent promises of taking it further later in the evening.

“Yev, set the table bud. Dinner will be ready soon,” Mickey said, then more quietly to him, “Did it go well?”

“Yeah it was good. New boss is a guy named Barry, and he seems nice. Everyone was welcoming. I’m glad to be back. How was your day?” He started helping Yev with the table.

“Good. We had to order a lot of new stock. Not sure where we will fit it all. Sandy is looking at other advertising options and she wants us to do another ‘review’ video this weekend. You up for that Gallagher?” Mickey looked him up and down with a smirk on his face.

“I’m always up for you Mick, you know that,” he replied, squeezing his husband’s ass as he passed by on the way to the sink. 

After they finished eating, they went into the living room. Ian waited for Mickey to start the conversation. 

“Yev, Daddy and I have something to ask you. And it’s ok for you to say yes or no.”

Yev put his superman action figure down and looked up at Mickey, sensing the serious tone in his father’s voice.

Mickey continued, “Ian—Daddy - would like to adopt you. Do you know what that means?”

“Nope,” Yev replied, brow knitted in confusion.

“Well, every kid gets two parents who can look after them. But now that Mama is in heaven, you only have me. But if Daddy adopts you, you will have two parents who are allowed to look after you. Do you get it?”

Ian was impressed with how Mickey had explained it but realised it would be hard for Yev to understand. 

“But Ian is already my Daddy. He already looks after me.”

Ian pulled Yev up into his lap. “Yev, I am your Daddy but if Papa wasn’t here, I wouldn’t be able to keep being your Daddy. If I adopt you, no one can separate us, I can always be your Daddy.”

“But where is Papa going? I don’t want Papa to go! I want you both to look after me.” Yev was looked worried. This was fucking hard. 

Ian continued, “Papa isn’t going anywhere. You don’t have to worry. It just means I get to always be your Daddy. Do you want that?”

“Well of course Daddy. Don’t be silly. Clara’s mom and Megan are going to get married and Clara will have two mommies. I told her I already have two Daddies,” Yev said, sounding very pleased with himself.

Ian looked at Mickey, “They got engaged?”

“Yeah they did, sorry, I forgot to tell you. They’re having an engagement party in a few weeks—said we’d be there.”

“That’s great news,” he said to Mickey.

Yev wrapped his arms around Ian’s neck. “Now let’s play superman!” 

“Guess we can get started on the adoption process then,” he said, smiling at Mickey as tears filled his eyes.

*****

The prosecutor, David, had asked Ian to come in so they could prepare him to testify at Terry’s trial. Mickey didn’t like the idea of Ian testifying, but he knew it would be necessary. David had also considered putting Mickey on the stand, but Ian had told David rather explicitly to find another way. That other way would come in the form of Mandy and Sandy, both corroborating Terry’s history of homophobia and his specific hatred of his and Ian’s relationship. 

David was the best ADA Chicago had, with a reputation for being almost unbeatable. Mickey could tell that for David this was more about winning than justice, but if he got the job done, then Mickey didn’t give a shit. He was in his 40s, average height and had black hair peppered with grey. He wore a well-tailored suit and stood like a man who knew he was a winner. Mickey didn’t care for him but kept his mouth shut. David sat them down and told them that the defence would try everything to bait and upset Ian, and to paint him as a sexual deviant that corrupted Terry’s son. In other words, try to make the jury believe Terry was being a good father by attacking Ian and saving his son. The defence strategy was about winning sympathy for Terry and getting him acquitted of the attempted murder charge, thus lowering his sentence. By the time Mickey was told to sit off to the side while David subjected Ian to mock questioning, he was already simmering with anger. Ian looked stressed out as they began…

“Mr. Gallagher, can you please tell us how long you have known the defendant’s son Mickey Milkovich?”

“If you mean my husband, Mickey Gallagher, since elementary school.”

“Mr. Gallagher, were you friends with Mickey’s sister Mandy in your teenage years?”

“Yes, she was my best friend and still is.”

“And is it true that you were having sex with her at 15 and got her pregnant?”

“No, I’m gay and have never had sex with Mandy.”

Mickey was proud of Ian. He was answering confidently and seemed in control.

“Mr. Gallagher, is it true you had an ongoing sexual relationship with your adult male boss between the ages of 14 and 16 that led to the demise of your boss’s marriage?”

“I had a relationship with him, but it seems since I was 14 I was probably the victim.”

“Did you have a sexual relationship with your sister’s partner’s father who was also married but subsequently ended up divorced because of you?”

“Yes I did, but I wasn’t the cause of his divorce.”

“At what age did you start having sex with Mickey Milkovich?”

“When I was fifteen.”

“And tell us about the first time? Where was it and who initiated it?”

Mickey jumped up out of his seat. “What the fuck? They’re not going to ask that?”

David turned to look at him, “They will and what’s the problem? Is there something you two need to tell me?”

Ian explained what happened that day, David’s face dropping with disappointment. 

“You realise how easily that can be twisted to imply you sexually assaulted Mickey, don’t you?” David explained. “You came into Mickey’s room uninvited with a tyre iron, you fought, and then had sex. You think anyone will buy that it was consensual?” David asked, looking at them both. David wrote some notes down and told Ian they would have to work on how to answer that question at their next session.

They continued on…

“Mr. Gallagher you have already stated that you had at least 3 sexual partners between the ages of 14 and 16. Would you say you are a very promiscuous person?”

“No, I would not.”

“Are you a top or a bottom?”

Mickey sprang up again, “That’s nobody’s fuckin’ business!” He glared at David.

“Mickey, the odds are that the judge will allow it, even if I object. We have to be ready. I need to see how Ian reacts to these difficult questions, so we are prepared. Do you want to win this case or not?”

Ian interjected, “Mickey, it’s ok. I’m ok. Maybe you should go take a walk or something.”

“Fuck no,” he said and sat down again, his heart still hammering.

“Ian, can you answer the question so we can continue,” David said.

“I prefer to top.”

“So, did you top all these men—these many lovers of yours?”

“Yes, I did.”

“So would you say you are sexually very dominant?”

“No, I wouldn’t. Being a top or a bottom doesn’t necessarily mean one person is dominant and the other submissive. It doesn’t reflect my nature. I am not an aggressive person.”

“Mr. Gallagher, you also worked as a dancer in a gay club when you were still underage is that correct?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Did you introduce Mickey to these seedy gay clubs?”

“I don’t think so, the first time I saw him in a gay club he had come on his own.”

“And is there a lot of casual sex at these gay clubs?”

“Sometimes.”

“Did you turn tricks at these gay clubs, Mr. Gallagher?”

“That’s fuckin’ enough!” Mickey yelled, striding over to stand in front of David.

Ian stood up and asked David to give them a minute. The ADA walked out with a disapproving frown on his face. Ian cradled Mickey’s face, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. 

“Mick, I have to do this. We need Terry out of our lives. The purpose of these meetings will be to find the problems and make sure I know how to answer the questions correctly. I’m ok. I’m at peace with all the shit I’ve done. I want you to go for a walk. I’ll call you when we’re done here and then we’ll head home together.”

“Ian, I don’t want people to hear all our shit. Maybe I should testify? I don’t want anyone to think for a fuckin’ second that you took fuckin’ advantage of me. Turned me gay. Forced me to take it up the ass.” He was feeling overwhelmed. 

Ian pulled him in and kissed him gently, then wrapped his arms around and held him tight. When Ian released him, he spoke again, “Mickey, you’re not testifying. Mandy and Sandy will corroborate our side. And I’m going to make sure every person in that room understands how much we love each other, have always loved each other, and how much bullshit we had to go through with Terry to be alive and married.”

David re-entered the room. “Gentlemen, we need to keep going, I have another meeting soon.”

Mickey left as Ian had asked, but it didn’t feel right.

*****

Ian was worried about how Mickey had reacted to the questions. He didn’t want Mickey to come when he testified in court and he didn’t know how he would accomplish that. David continued with the questions and he was so glad he made Mickey leave when he did. When David got to the questions about how Terry discovered they were having sex, even Ian had to take a breather. He wavered back and forth about telling David about the rape. If it came out in court, because Terry had painted it in some other light, then that would be worse. But this was something that only he, Mickey, Terry and Svetlana knew about. And Lip to some extent. He decided against it. He would talk to Mickey first and they would decide together. And before his next meeting with David. 

*****

By the time Teagan and Megan’s engagement party rolled around, they were happy for an afternoon of distraction. Even though they were both enjoying their jobs, and things were great with Yev, the fast-approaching trial was a shadow that followed them around day and night. The engagement party was being held at a local park. It was a laid back simple BBQ in the afternoon with lots of families and kids. Mickey approved.

They had become good friends with Teagan and Megan and the two families often went out together—the movies, the park, bowling or any place that Yev and Clara enjoyed. Mickey never thought he would enjoy it, but now they had Yev, he found he did. When he was a kid, he thought he and Ian were the only queers around and now he was surrounded by them. He was glad to see the world changing and fewer people hiding who they really were. He laughed to himself when he realised he felt fucking normal. He and Teagan got on great and they were busy trying to organise a day at the shooting range when Ian asked, “Where are Yev and Clara?” They looked around the park, trying to spot them amongst the other kids.

“I’ll check on the other side of the playground,” he said, while Ian headed off in the other direction.

He made his way to the rock-climbing wall, hoping to find them on the other side as it was the only place not visible from where they had been standing. He didn’t think they would run away, so he was only mildly panicked. As he got closer, he heard his son’s voice, “Clara, I love you.”

He crept closer to the wall and stopped so he could listen. Clara was giggling like the schoolgirl she was. 

“Clara, will you marry me?” Mickey clapped his hand over his mouth to stop the laugh escaping. Man, his son had balls and was romantic as fuck.

“Yevy we aren’t old enough to get married. We need to be in high school,” Clara said, voice full of authority.

“Will you marry me then?” Yev asked.

Mickey chanced a look around the wall, hoping not to get caught. 

“Of course, silly. Are you going to kiss me?” Clara asked.

Mickey watched as his little boy held Clara’s face and planted a big sloppy kiss on her lips. They both burst into giggles before Clara started saying, ‘shh shh.’ Mickey thought it was the best thing he’d seen in a fucking long time. 

“Mick, you found them?” Ian spoke from behind him.

Yev and Clara squealed when they heard Ian’s voice and spotted Mickey looking around the wall at them.

“What are two up to? We were worried you got lost,” he told them, pretending to be angry.

“Sorry Papa,” Yev said, grabbing Clara by the hand and skipping back around to the other side of the wall.

“Well make sure you stay where we can see you,” he warned.

*****

It was late when they finally made it to bed. He had helped Mickey box up the orders that needed to go out first thing in the morning. The engagement party had been nice, but he was tired out after the long day.

“Mick are you going to tell me what Yev and Clara were doing behind the rock-climbing wall today?” he asked.

Mickey climbed on top and straddled his hips. He ran his hands up Mickey’s thighs, stopping to grab hold of his hips.

“Our kid’s got fuckin’ balls. He told her he loved her and then he proposed.”

“What the fuck? Are you serious?” he asked, wishing he’d seen it too. “Did Clara say yes or no?”

“She said yes, then she asked him to kiss her, which he did,” Mickey replied with a proud smile on his face.

“We’re gonna have to give him the sex talk really early, we don’t want him knocking up some girl at 14.”

“Got that right. If I had been a girl, you would have definitely knocked me up. Think of how many times we did it without a fuckin’ rubber,” Mickey said, laughing.

“Think I might fucking knock you up right now,” he said, grabbing Mickey and rolling them so he was on top. 

“Give it your best shot tough guy,” Mickey said, grabbing him by the neck and pulling him down roughly for a kiss. 

They rolled around, battling for dominance, kissing each other hard like they did when they were young. 

“Give me your fucking ass Mick,” he said, as he reached for the lube on the nightstand. Mickey got on his hands and knees. He slapped that juicy ass hard before pushing two fingers straight in.

“Fuck Gallagher, I’m not sixteen anymore,” Mickey complained before moaning in pleasure a few seconds later as Ian curled his fingers and started massaging his husband’s prostate. 

“You were saying?” he teased. He kissed along Mickey’s spine and stroked his cock, already hard and leaking.

Before long he was pounding into his husband from behind, mesmerised by his cock sliding in and out of Mickey’s perfect ass. “Fuck Mick, we gotta get a mirror in here so you can see yourself.”

“If it looks as good as it feels it must be fuckin’ beautiful,” Mickey panted out.

He changed pace, thrusting harder and deeper, holding slightly after each thrust—buried in deep. Mickey was crying out with each thrust, trying not to get too loud and wake Yev. 

“You like that Mick?”

“Fuckin’ love it. Switch. I wanna suck on your lips. Wanna taste you.”

He pulled out and Mickey was on him in seconds, sinking down onto his cock. Ian was sitting up with Mickey riding him. They loved this position because they could stay close and kiss the fuck out of each other. Eventually, Mickey threw his head back and started bouncing hard and fast, angling himself to hit his sweet spot.

“You’re making me wanna cum you sexy motherfucker,” he said, pinching Mickey’s nipples.

“Fill me up then Gallagher,” Mickey replied, groaning in pleasure. 

He took Mickey’s cock and started pumping it hard, struggling to stay focussed as he passed that point of no return. Mickey started spilling into his hand and spurting up onto their chests as he chanted ‘fuck, fuck, fuck.’ The pulsing around his cock intensified his own orgasm, his vision blurring as he shot his cum deep inside his husband. “Oh fuck Mickey,” he moaned again and again.

Mickey smiled down at him before they enjoyed a few slow, wet, soft lipped kisses that only exist after a really good fucking. 

“You think I knocked you up?” he asked, smiling at Mickey.

“You fuckin’ dork,” Mickey replied, brushing Ian's hair back off his forehead and kissing him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is reading/following this fic!  
> Kudos and comments always appreciated!!


	13. Judgement Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am hopefully on track for chapter 14 to be up in 24 hours!  
> Please read the notes at the end. Thank you!!

“Mick, I need to talk to you about something important,” Ian said, sitting down on the sofa next to his husband. 

It was the night before his final prep session with the ADA and he had left it too late. Every time he had wanted to bring it up, he couldn’t follow through. In his second session, he had endured questions about his mental health and his ‘gay Jesus’ phase, including his criminal record. Fortunately, Mickey had been so busy with work that Ian had easily convinced him not to come.

Mickey put his beer down on the coffee table, “What is it?”

“After you left the first trial prep session, David asked me questions about how Terry discovered you were gay and that we were together. He asked how Terry reacted because obviously that’s important, especially for the hate crime charge.”

“You didn’t fuckin’ tell him, did you?” Mickey said, springing up to his feet.

“No. No, of course not. I just said he beat us up. I stopped when I got to the part about you being pistol whipped unconscious. But Mick, maybe I should tell him and ask him not to use any of it. Cos what if the defence knows about it and twists it out of context to their advantage? I mean Yev is evidence of it, and that you’ve had sex with women.”

Mickey slumped back onto the sofa, looking defeated. “Ian, I don’t want that shit said in public. Fuck.” Mickey took another swig of beer. “I need a smoke.”

They headed outside to their back porch, sitting on the top step, passing the cigarette back and forth in silence. 

“Mick, I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

“If the defence brought it up, what would you do?” Mickey asked.

“I can lie. Deny it all.”

“You know that’s perjury, right?”

“It’s Terry’s word against mine. You’re not being called as a witness. And we both know that means the defence thinks you would bury Terry with what you have to say. The only other witness is dead.”

“You sure you’re ok with that?” Mickey asked, looking him dead in the eye.

“Mick, I’d fucking die for you, so lying is a walk in the park,” he replied.

“That’s some dramatic gay shit right there, Gallagher.”

They smiled at each other for a moment, then Mickey became serious, pulling him in by the neck and kissing him firmly. Keeping their foreheads pressed together, Mickey whispered, “Love you,” against his mouth.

*****

**Trial Day 1:**

It was the first day of the trial and Mickey felt as if he was naked on a stage with a spotlight on him. Mandy and Brian arrived last night and were staying for the duration of the trial. They expected Mandy to testify on day three. Ian would testify on day two. They were in a café near the courthouse having lunch—him and Ian, Mandy and Brian, Sandy and Debbie, plus Lip and Carl. Jury selection was complete and opening statements were due to begin after the lunch break. 

The hate crime charge had been gaining a reasonable amount of local press, so they weren’t surprised to find reporters when they arrived, which they ignored. What was harder to ignore was the protestors—the homophobes and Christian right wingers were out in full force on one side and the LGBT community on the other. They had posters and fucking chants and all he could do was take Ian’s hand and be led into the courthouse. He heard words like ‘homosexual,’ ‘sin’, and ‘hell’ and it took every fucking ounce of self-control not to lay every one of those motherfuckers out. He kept repeating ‘Yev’ over and over in his head to remind himself of what was important. And he’d promised his husband he wouldn’t fight. 

Ian elbowed him gently and pulled him out of his thoughts. “Mick, are you sure you want to go in this afternoon? You know me, Mandy and Sandy are not allowed in until they call us to testify.”

“I want to see him, and I want to hear the opening statements and the police evidence,” he replied.

Ian took his hand under the table and threaded their fingers together. “Mickey, I’m worried about you.”

“I’ll be fuckin fine, Gallagher. Not made of fuckin’ glass,” he snarked, before instantly regretting it.

An hour later he was sitting in the gallery staring at the back of his father’s head. He thought about all the times he had done that before, when he’d considered how easy it would be to crush his skull in with a bat or deposit a bullet into his brain. For so many years he had wanted both his father’s approval and his death. There was nothing stranger than loving someone you hated and hating someone you loved, but that was his childhood in a nutshell. 

Before the wedding he had tried to get along with his dad. Thought maybe Terry had accepted he was gay. The fucking Nazi had had five years to get used to the idea. What the fuck difference did it make if they married or not? Him and Ian had been fucking each other since high school. How did Terry think he would stop them now they were men?

With opening statements concluded, the prosecution called for their first witness, which was Detective Bennett. Terry turned his head to watch the cop enter and their eyes met for the first time. The disgust and anger dripped off his father, his eyes narrowing and mouth turning down at the corners. When his father mouthed ‘fucking dead’ to him he felt laughter bubble up from somewhere deep in his gut. He didn’t stop it but instead set it free. Terry’s eyes widened in shock before his lawyer insisted he turn back around.

Bennett and Myers both gave excellent testimony and walked the jury through the CCTV footage. It was the CCTV footage that did him in. He didn’t even know why he thought he could sit through it. And they kept stopping and replaying it to emphasize certain parts. He began shifting in his seat, goosebumps erupted up his arms, he went cold and then burning hot. Nausea flooded his body, and his chest tightened. Perhaps he was having a panic attack. He needed to get out of there, he needed to breathe. Using the last ounce of energy he had, he hauled himself up and staggered out of the courtroom. Leaning against a wall for support, he took his heaving body over and waited for it to pass. 

Later that night, when they were trying to fall sleep, Ian asked, “You gonna tell me what happened this afternoon in the courtroom?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. Debbie told me you had some sort of panic attack and had to leave. During the CCTV footage. I told you not to fucking go in there.”

He stayed still and quiet, hoping to god Ian would let it go. Not really Gallagher’s style when he had a point to make. The attack had been playing on a loop in his head since he’d seen it. There was no doubt he was taking it into his sleep with him and carrying it around for many more days to come. Seeing Terry cock that gun and point it at Ian’s head had not triggered his usual Milkovich-style anger but had instead drowned him in fear. Anger was something he could manage more easily.

“Mickey?” Ian shuffled back and rolled Mickey onto his back. Concerned green eyes looked down at him. “What happened?” Ian asked again.

“Ian, why can’t you fuckin’ leave anything alone?” His husband just kept looking at him and waiting, so he continued, “It was seeing the footage. Not just imagining what Terry did, but actually seeing it. Seeing how close he was to pulling the trigger. Seeing him punch and kick the shit out of you while you were unconscious. Seeing it and not being able to do anything about it.”

“We are doing something about it. We’re getting him locked up for a long time so you, me and Yev can get on with our lives. Ok? We’ve already lived through the attack once, you don’t need to live through it again.”

“Ok,” he said.

“You gonna be able to sleep?” Ian asked, cupping his jaw, and brushing his thumb across his bottom lip.

“Ian, just shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

*****

**Trial Day 2:**

Teagan had just dropped by to pick Yev up for school, something she had offered to do for the duration of the trial, and they were grateful for it. But the morning was not going well, and Ian was close to losing his temper. He had told Mickey that he didn’t want him in the courtroom again. He was due to testify today and if it went badly, he knew Mickey wouldn’t cope -meaning either losing his temper or having another panic attack. 

They had been arguing for the last hour—from the moment Ian had said he didn’t want him to come when they were still lying in bed, to the shower, getting dressed, at breakfast, and making Yev’s lunch. Now that Yev was out of the house, their voices had doubled in volume; Mickey was yelling, the words falling so fast from his mouth he could barely keep up. They were currently in the living room, Mickey trying to follow him to the front door.

“You’re not fucking going Mickey,” he said, getting right up in his husband’s face. “So sit the fuck down.” He pushed Mickey back down onto the sofa. “I can do this on my own and I don’t want you in the same room with that motherfucking prick!” He breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself. Mickey still looked shocked from being pushed around. “Let me take care of this. Of you,” he said more softly. He turned away and started heading for the door, but Mickey was hot on his heels and grabbed him by the shoulder to stop him.

“Ian, we should do this shit together,” Mickey said as he spun his body around.

“Mickey we are doing this together. But right now, it’s best if I do this part alone.” He turned back around and opened the door.

Mickey immediately slammed it closed again. “What? You think I can’t handle this shit. I’m fuckin’ going! So get out of the fuckin’ way.”

Ian continued to block the door as he looked down at Mickey. He considered giving in before reminding himself of what could happen if Mickey couldn’t keep it together. He knew Mickey wouldn’t be able to. He knew his husband. He grabbed Mickey by the shoulders. “Mickey, I am your husband and for once in your life you will fucking listen to me. You are not coming, and if you turn up, we will have a big fucking problem. You hear me? You’ve always looked after me. It’s my turn now. I love you and I’ll see you later.” He grabbed Mickey’s stunned face, kissed him hard, then strode straight out the door without a second glance.

*****

Mickey paced the house for ten minutes straight as he considered his options. He was still fucking mad at Ian for telling him what he could or couldn’t fucking do, but he couldn’t deny his husband was hot as fuck. The semi he was sporting was evidence of that. Ian standing up to him, challenging him, always turned him the fuck on. But that wasn’t the point. The point was whether he should or shouldn’t be in that courtroom when Ian testified. 

When he calmed down, he sat on the sofa replaying his reaction to the mock trial questions and his reaction to Terry and the CCTV footage yesterday. Maybe Ian was right. He was torn. It didn’t seem right for Ian to go through this on his own, just as it didn’t seem right for him not to trust his husband. He pulled his cell out of his pocket and sent Ian a text.

 **(8.55am) Mickey** : Promise me you’ll call if you need me. I love you. Bury the motherfucker!

 **(9.01am) Ian** : I promise Mick. Love you too. Consider him buried xx

Mickey then called Teagan. It was time for a day at the shooting range.

It was mid-afternoon when Ian called him. He was about five minutes away from the courthouse. The shooting range had been just what he needed. He hadn’t intended on entering the courthouse, he just wanted to be close to Ian and be there when he came out.

“You ok?” he asked as soon as he accepted the call.

“It went so fucking well, Mick. His defence lawyer was shit. David said I did great—a sympathetic victim and a clear and consistent witness—were his exact fucking words.” Ian sounded excited. 

He was so relieved, he had to slump against a wall to steady himself. “Ian that’s so fuckin’ good to hear. Can you leave yet?”

“Yeah, resuming at ten in the morning. It was too late in the day to start on the next witness. Are you at home?”

“Nah man, I’m just around the corner. Wanted to see you.”

“Stay there, where are you?”

“Out front of the library.”

He smoked while he waited, tossing the cigarette aside the moment he saw his husband’s beautiful fucking face emerge from around the corner. He strode quickly toward him, their bodies nearly crashing into each other as they embraced. Ian rocked him gently from side to side before pulling away and kissing him hard.

*****

**Trial Day 3:**

On the third day Ian and Mickey sat outside the courtroom while Mandy and Sandy both testified. By lunchtime, the prosecution had rested. David was pleased with both women’s testimony and told them things were going well. Ian looked at Mickey as they both dared to hope for the best. 

In the afternoon, the defence began. They all needed to remain available in case the defence recalled any of the witnesses. They took the opportunity to thank the two passer-by’s who had saved his life. He’d never seen Mickey so keen to shake someone’s hand before. 

In the afternoon, Mickey and Mandy headed off to get coffees. When they were almost back, they stopped, deep in conversation. It warmed his heart to see them together again and talking. Mandy had her hand pressed to her stomach, probably unconsciously. She was barely showing, just a little rounded. Mickey pulled her in for a hug and they held onto each other. Mickey needed family, and he would do his damnedest to ensure they kept Mandy and Brian in their lives. Mickey would be a great uncle and Yev would have another cousin. 

*****

**Trial Day 4:**

They sat outside the courtroom again all morning on day four of the trial. By lunchtime the defence had rested. None of the witnesses were recalled. David told them they could go home if they wanted, and he would call them when the jury reached a verdict. Ian dared to ask David if he thought they would win. David only told them he was quietly confident. They all headed home, wondering if it would be hours or days. Mickey felt like he was having an out-of-body experience, his brain so disconnected from his body.

At 3pm David called Ian to tell them the verdict was in and would be read at 4pm. They rushed out the door, calling Teagan to let her know they would pick Yev up on their way home from the courthouse. After feeling like the trial had dragged on in slow motion for weeks, it now seemed to be running in fast forward. They barely spoke on the trip back, choosing to hold hands instead. Mickey wondered if Ian felt like their entire future depended on this verdict. Because maybe it did.

They were sitting in the courtroom just behind David and his co-counsel. They brought in Terry and Ian reached over to rest a hand on his thigh. They both continued to look straight ahead. He didn’t know what he would do, or what Ian would do, if they acquitted Terry. A wave of nausea rolled over him and he closed his eyes. 

The bailiff entered, announcing, “Please rise. The honourable Judge Perkins residing.”

They all stood up and watched the judge take his seat. Mickey scanned the jurors, trying to read their faces for some sort of sign. It was impossible to tell. They sat back down. Time stood still as the Judge and foreperson read through the formalities and then Terry was being asked to stand and face the jury. 

He reached for Ian’s hand, gripping it so tightly that it must have hurt. Ian looked at him, his own fear reflected straight back. 

“Just look at me, Mickey,” Ian whispered. So he did. He didn’t take his eyes off his husband. 

“On the count of aggravated assault and battery, what say you?”

“We find the defendant guilty.”

“On the count of a hate crime of assault what say you?”

“We find the defendant not guilty.”

“On the count of attempted murder in the first degree, what say you?”

“We find the defendant guilty.”

Mickey could hear their families celebrating around him, but he just felt numb. Was this even real? 

Ian reached out and cupped his face, “Mickey, it’s over.” 

Ian was brushing at his cheeks. Tears. That’s what Ian was doing, brushing away his tears. He reached up to touch Ian’s face. Their lips met. He could taste salt; Ian’s lips were wet. But soft. Home. Ian held him. Swayed him gently as he stroked his back. He held on tight, his face pressed into the crook of his husband’s neck. Safe. Home.

*****

The party raged on inside their house—all the Gallagher’s were there, plus Mandy and Brian, Sandy, and Teagan and Megan. All the kids too. It was a pretty tame party as far as Gallagher parties go; nobody was too drunk, no drugs, just a bunch of fucking happy people. The music was loud and the thump, thump reached them out on their back porch.

They had grown to love their back porch. Mickey was sitting on the step below him, between his legs, leaning back against his chest. He passed the cigarette to him, then leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his husband, and nuzzling into his neck. He breathed in, Mickey’s scent filling him with a sense of calm. Safe. Home. 

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Still can’t really believe it. Think I’ll feel better after sentencing,” Mickey replied, butting out the cigarette.

“I’m so fucking tired. Do you think we can kick this lot out? Yev needs to get to bed.”

“Yeah, let’s do it. I need to kiss our son and then crawl into our bed.” Mickey tilted his head back and Ian gave him what he wanted, kissing him softly.

“I need to make love to my husband,” he said, brushing his fingers through Mickey’s hair.

“Not gonna lie, I like the fuckin’ sound of that.” 

They stood up and made their way back into the house hand in hand. They cleared everyone out and carried their sleeping boy upstairs, putting him into bed. They kissed him and watched over him for a few minutes before slipping out of his room and into their own. They shed their clothes and slipped under the covers, holding each other close, legs tangled together. 

Mickey spoke hesitantly, “You know I loved him when I was a kid. Even though he beat me and treated me like shit.”

“I know. I used to love Frank too.”

He kissed Mickey gently, slowly licking into his mouth, then sucking on his bottom lip. He felt Mickey relax under his touch, his sighs slowly turning into moans as they rubbed and rocked against each other. He laid Mickey on his back and entered him slowly. Mickey’s legs were spread open, welcoming him inside. Mickey’s body was soft in his arms, while his cock was hard against his stomach. They whispered to each other in the dark—things that no one else would ever hear. When he spilled deep inside Mickey and Mickey released hot between their bodies, relief and pleasure washed over them. When sleep took their exhausted bodies, a new kind of peace settled over them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Would love to hear your thoughts and feelings on this chapter! 
> 
> ** Kudos always appreciated!! 
> 
> **I hope I haven't offended anyone by using the phrase 'christian right wingers'. I mean no offence to anyone who is Christian or has right wing politics and I certainly understand that being one or the other doesn't mean you are homophobic. This is a work of fiction and this part is based on the fact that SOME people do fall under this stereotype. (Hey I've even known plenty in my time.) That is not to say that there aren't left wingers, or atheists who are also homophobic. 
> 
> ** For anyone also reading my other WIP - Dance Partners - please be patient with me. The next 3 chapters are very heavy emotionally and I want to be able to post them over 3 consecutive days. They will be coming soon but a little longer than my usual updates. 
> 
> **Thank you everyone for reading. Maybe 3-4 more chapters to go for this fic!!
> 
> You can find me on Twitter if you wanna chat, just DM me. @dancelovermk  
> Take care, Rachael


	14. Father's Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter to make you feel good! I hope you enjoy it!!

Mickey woke up to his husband’s soft lips trailing kisses down his neck and shoulder. He was gently coaxed onto his back, then felt a warm tongue lick and swirl around each nipple. He smiled; eyes still closed as he zeroed in on the feeling of Ian exploring his skin. The bed rocked slightly as Ian settled between his legs and further lavished kisses down his stomach. Hands squeezed at his hips as a warm tongue lightly ran up his shaft, swirling around the head and licking in his slit. He moaned as he pressed his hips up, wanting more. Always more. 

As he became more alert, he stretched, his muscles tingling. Ian’s mouth sank down around his cock and he smiled again, still yet to open his eyes. He was so hard. Ian started moaning in pleasure as he worked his mouth up and down his shaft, hands now sliding under Mickey’s ass, pressing into his flesh. As Ian picked up the speed and pressure, he reached down to touch the red hair and lightly freckled skin he loved so much. He was already so close, his balls tightening when he lifted his head and opened his eyes to watch. “Ian,” he moaned, before dropping his head back onto the pillow and arching his back, trying to hold off for a second longer. He pressed his hips up, pushing his cock further into his husband’s mouth as his orgasm flooded his body. He grunted with each spurt, Ian sucking him perfectly with each wave of pleasure.

Ian pulled off and made his way up Mickey’s body, then kissed him deeply. He wrapped his arms around Ian, caressing his back and running his fingers through his hair. When Ian pulled away, they stared at each other, eyes gazing over each other’s faces. Ian smiled down at him before finally speaking, “Happy Father’s Day.”

He was just about to take care of Ian’s rock-hard cock when Yev came tumbling through the door trying to balance gifts in one hand. Neither of them had bothered to put their boxers back on last night after they fucked, so they both pulled the blankets up and hoped Yev didn’t try to hop under the covers with them. 

“Hey bud, what you got there?” he asked.

Yev had the biggest smile on his face. He was so excited and proud of himself and Mickey felt a flood of emotions rush through him.

Yev climbed up on the bed and pushed himself between them. “Happy Father’s Day Papa,” Yev said turning to give him one of the packages. “And Happy Father’s Day Daddy.” Yev handed the other package to Ian. 

“Thanks Yevy,” Ian said, kissing Yev on top of his head.

Mickey pulled the handmade card off the top. “Did you make this all by yourself Yev?” he asked, as he opened it and read what his son had written…

_Dear Papa,_

_Thank you for being the best Papa in the whole wide world._

_Happy Father’s Day._

_Love Yevy._

It had hearts and crosses around the writing. The drawing on the front was of Yev holding hands with him and Ian.

“I did it all by myself and I made Daddy’s one too,” Yev replied.

“Yevy your writing is getting so good. And I love the drawing you did of us all playing baseball,” Ian said, pointing to his own card.

Mickey looked over at Ian, tear filled eyes matching his own. After all the stress of the trial, this was exactly what they needed.

“Open your gifts, open your gifts,” Yev said, getting impatient.

They ripped open the wrapping paper to find hand painted coffee mugs. Yev had painted them differently and written ‘I love Papa’ and ‘I love Daddy’ on each one. 

“Miss Berry gave us all a mug and we could paint whatever we wanted. But I got two mugs and everyone else only got one. The other kids were soooooo jealous. Do you like them? They are for your coffee.”

“We love them so much Yevy,” Ian said, hugging him while laying kisses to the top of his head.

Mickey felt lost for words. He remembered a time when he was in elementary school and brought home a handmade ashtray for his father. Terry had looked at it, tossed it on the table and said, ‘what the fuck do I want this for.’ The next day he found it in the garbage. 

Yev tapped him on the arm. “Papa, you like yours? There’s you and Daddy kissing, and there’s you having a smoke, and there’s us at the park,” Yev said, pointing to all the different little stick figures. 

Mickey thought his heart might explode right out of his chest. He pulled Yev into his arms. “Thanks bud. I love it. Love you.” He pressed his lips to the top of Yev’s head. When he released him, he swallowed down the tears and smiled at his son. Ian was not doing so well either and brushed a tear off his cheek.

They stood Yev’s cards up on their nightstands and took their mugs to the kitchen where the coffee tasted better than it ever had before. 

“Can we tell him now, Daddy?” Yev asked Ian.

“Tell me what?” he asked, looking to Ian.

“Yeah, you can tell him,” Ian said, smiling at the excited Yev.

“Me and Daddy planned a special day for Father’s Day. We are going on a picnic to the lake,” Yev said, clapping his hands with glee.

Mickey laughed at his fucking dork of a husband. “You know Yev, your Daddy’s been trying to get me to go on a picnic and spread out a blanket since he was 15.”

“Fuck off, Mick. Besides, we’ve laid on a blanket together before,” Ian grumbled with a smile on his face. 

“That time didn’t count; we didn’t have anywhere else to sleep.”

“I don’t remember doing much sleeping that night,” Ian said, raising one eyebrow suggestively.

He bit his bottom lip just thinking about the night they spent fucking under the stars before he crossed into Mexico. 

Two hours later they were set up at the lake, blanket laid out and a picnic basket in tow. “You make a good wife Gallagher,” he said as he rummaged through the basket. “We got sandwiches, cake, fruit, soda, beer. You put on a nice spread little lady.”

“Mickey I’m serious, shut the fuck up. I won’t do this shit again if you keep it up.”

He pulled Ian towards him and kissed him one, two, three times. 

“Oh not yeeeet,” Yev whined. “We have to play football first. You two are always kissing.”

Mickey pulled his lips off Ian. “What? Like you and Clara are always kissing,” he said, poking Yev lightly in the stomach. Yev went bright red, causing both he and Ian to laugh.

“I do not. I do not! It’s not funny, Papa. I’m going to marry her when I’m big enough,” Yev yelled, as he stomped his foot in anger.

“Jesus Mick, he’s so much like you when he’s mad. Freakin’ adorable.”

“ **I’m not freakin’ adorable** ,” both he and Yev snarked at the same time, causing Ian to throw his head back and laugh even harder.

Mickey wouldn’t admit the day was perfect, but it was. It was exactly what they needed—to be alone as a family, no stress, no distractions. They played football together, tag, and dipped their feet in the lake. They ate way too much food, then took a walk as Yev tried to spot some wildlife. It was domestic as shit and everything that had been missing from their own childhoods. 

Later in the afternoon, while Yev kicked the ball around, they laid down on the blanket to rest. He had his head on Ian’s chest, the sound of his heart beating under his ear almost lulling him into sleep.

Ian mumbled, “Not so bad, was it?”

He lifted himself up onto one elbow so he could look at his husband. Ian squinted open one eye, waiting for his response. “It scares me to admit I enjoy this shit. People like us don’t get to experience this…”

“Maybe we’re different people now, Mick. Think we deserve it.”

“Why did you plan all this for me?” he asked. “It’s Father’s Day for you, too.”

“You missed the first five. Wanted this to be special. You’re a good Dad, Mick.”

“So are you. Next year Yev and I will plan Father’s Day.”

“Love you Mick,” Ian said, reaching out to cradle his face.

As he brought his lips down to Ian’s he whispered ‘love you too’ into his husbands’ mouth. Ian rolled them over as they continued to kiss. When Ian started sucking on his neck, and whispered, ‘you’re a good husband too’ he almost forgot they weren’t alone. Almost.

“Stop you two!” Yev yelled as he jumped on top of Ian’s back. They finished up the afternoon with a good old-fashioned play fight. When Ian and Yev teamed up to hold him down and tickle him, he may have turned back into a grumpy old ass.

*****

“You ready?” Ian asked Mickey as they stood outside the courtroom.

“Ready as I’ll ever fuckin’ be.”

Ian pushed open the door, they entered and then sat up the back out of sight. They had told their families to stay home, or go to work as normal, and they would let everyone know. This was something they needed to do together, just the two of them. Terry was likely to receive a lengthy sentence, but they had already made a firm decision that when the time came for Terry to be released, they would move to another state.

When they brought Terry in, Ian was struck by how defeated he looked. He’d never seen Terry look anything other than confident; with his chest pumped out and pulsing with anger. Now he appeared tired and small—a shell of his former self. Once all the formalities were out of the way Judge Perkins began…

“After reviewing the recommendations made by both the District Attorney and the defendant’s counsel, and in consideration of Mr. Milkovich’s extensive criminal record and the victim’s impact statement, I am ready to commence sentencing.”

Terry was standing, waiting to hear his fate, with his shoulders slumped and chin lowered. Ian thought it would make him feel good, even happy, to see Terry Milkovich get what was coming to him. But he just felt sad. Not sad for Terry, but sad for Mickey. That this was what it had come to after all these years. That who Mickey chose to love, who Mickey was as a man, was so unacceptable to his father. His own flesh and blood. He placed his arm around Mickey’s waist and pulled him in closer. Mickey reached out and placed a hand on his thigh, squeezing gently. They dared a glance at each other, the truth raw between them. 

The Judge continued, “In case number 36661012, the State of Illinois against Terrence Aleksandr Milkovich on count one of aggravated assault and battery I sentence you to five years imprisonment. On count three of attempted murder in the first degree, I sentence you to twenty-five years imprisonment. The two sentences are to be served consecutively, bringing it to a total of thirty years. You will be required to serve a minimum of twenty years before you will be eligible for parole.”

Ian watched Mickey lean forward, taking his head into his hands. He rubbed Mickey’s back in circles as the reality of the sentence sunk in. His own body was shaking, and he felt tears prickle at his eyes. Yev would be almost 27 before Terry could get out. At the earliest. And he would be an old man. Mickey suddenly sat up and pulled him into a hug. Mickey’s hand was stroking through the hair at the back of his neck, his face nuzzled into his neck. “We did it, Mick,” he whispered into his husband's ear as he pulled him closer. 

When Mickey pulled away from him, he brushed a tear from his own cheek, uttered “Let’s go,” and Ied Ian out of the courtroom.

*****

The heaviness in his chest lifted the moment he stepped outside the courthouse. By the time they were getting on the L, the truth of the situation was staring him straight in the face. This was the moment. The moment he could choose to leave his father in the past. To sever all ties and be the man he wants to be, the husband he wants to be, and the father he wants to be. Fuck. He was ready. Every battle he had ever fought to be with Ian had brought him to this point in time. And it felt fucking euphoric.

He looked at Ian. His husband was hesitant, eyes observing. Waiting. He smiled at him and then lurched forward, kissing the fucking shit out of Ian right there in front of everyone. On the train. His tongue was halfway down Ian’s throat when he heard a passenger yell out, ‘get a fucking room.’ All he did was flip the bird in the general direction of the voice while he continued making out with his hot ass husband. Everyone could just fuck right off because nothing would spoil this day.

By the time they came crashing through their front door, they were like horny fucking teenagers again. “Fuck me, fuck me,” he ordered as he frantically tried to get Ian’s belt undone. 

“Jesus Mick, I’m so fucking hard,” Ian moaned, shoving Mickey’s hands away to get at his own belt. 

Mickey kicked off his shoes and heard his pants rip as he tugged them down. They were attached at the mouth again, biting at each other, grunting, as Ian tried to push him in the direction of the stairs. Ian’s pants and boxers were at his ankles, the two of them falling hard onto the stairs. “Just get in me Gallagher,” he begged between sloppy kisses, as he wrapped his legs around Ian’s ass. 

“Lube?” Ian asked.

“Fuck, just use spit, we already fucked this morning,” he replied, grabbing Ian’s hand and spitting into his palm. Ian added his own spit and spread it over that beautiful cock, before pushing Mickey’s legs back to expose his ass and spitting into his hole. “Ian, hurry the fuck up.”

Ian pushed in slow, “Oooh fuuuck Mickey, so fucking tight.”

“Just give it to me, pound me,” he moaned, the burn starting to ease once Ian began hitting his prostate. He threw his head back and closed his eyes, as Ian thrusted into him on the stairs. They had their shirts on and Ian still had his boxers and pants trapped on his ankles. Mickey’s cock was leaking on his stomach, his balls already starting to tighten. He opened his eyes to look at his husband - Ian was sweating and panting, biting down on his lip, eyes black with lust.

“I would fuck you forever if I could Mick. It’s like your ass was made for my cock.”

“Fuck Ian, gonna cum,” he panted, as he grasped his cock and started jerking it fast.

They pulled together for one last kiss then came undone, Ian biting into his neck as he released inside him. Mickey felt his orgasm ripple through his whole body, the aftershocks sending him into sensory overload. They clung to each other, as their breathing slowly returned to normal. His body turned to mush, his limbs shaking against his husband. They kissed deeply, then Ian pulled out and stood up on wobbly legs. He realised his back hurt like a motherfucker from the stairs. Ian helped him up and they made their way upstairs, exhausted but satisfied, collapsing on the bed.

They napped as they were, with clothes still half on and half off. It was the most solid sleep they’d had in a long time. They woke about an hour later, limbs still tangled together, having not moved an inch. Ian hauled himself up, found some boxers and went downstairs. He returned five minutes later with two sandwiches, which they ate in silence while they smiled at each other. And maybe eye-fucked each other too. 

“Shower Mick. We gotta pick up Yev from school in an hour,” Ian said, slapping his ass and pulling him up off the bed.

They began their shower routine, Mickey washing Ian’s hair first, before swapping over. There were soft touches and softer kisses as they went about cleaning each other. 

“Does it feel like you thought it would?” Ian asked him, lathering his shoulders with soap.

“I gave him every chance to do the fuckin’ right thing and he never did. I don’t want to be like him and never learn from my mistakes.” He turned around to face Ian. “He’s probably gonna die in there and I’m cool with that. We got shit to look forward to Gallagher.”

“Fucking oath we do.”

He smiled at his ginger dork, the motherfucker suddenly slamming him against the shower wall and biting his earlobe. “Hey, we gotta leave in 30 minutes,” he tried to protest.

“This will only take 10,” Ian said as he sank to his knees.

*****

When they arrived at school and told Teagan the good news they were bombarded with hugs and kisses. Ian had felt relieved after the guilty verdicts, but now he felt light. Fucking hopeful that they could finally get on with their lives. Mickey had that glint in his eyes he loved so much. He wanted to see that every day, and now maybe he would. 

The school bell rang, and all the kids started pouring out of the classrooms - Yev and Clara coming out together as always. 

“Hey bud,” Mickey called, scooping Yev up into his arms as soon as he could. “You have fun today?”

“Yup. We made rainbow paintings,” Yev replied. 

Mickey laughed, turning to Ian and raising his eyebrows. “Fuckin’ rainbows, hey?”

Ian looked from Yev to Mickey - same beautiful smiles, same sparkling ocean blue eyes. “Come on, let’s go get some ice cream.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Did anyone laugh at the CASE NUMBER???
> 
> ** I am hard at work on the last two chapters!! My AIM is to have this fic completed by next weekend. 
> 
> ** Comments and Kudos keep me motivated - I'm needy, what can I say?! LOL
> 
> ** Please check out my completed multi-chapter fic - 'Shall We Dance' if you haven't read it - would love to hear your thoughts on it.
> 
> ** Hope everyone is healthy and happy! Thank you for reading. How many times have you watched the 'Tamale kiss' deleted scene? I've lost count! 
> 
> Rachael


	15. From Death Comes New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been six months since Terry was sentenced to 30 years in prison...

As they sat down to eat lunch on a busy Sunday, Mickey couldn’t help but be sentimental about his little family. They’ve had Yev for almost a year now and they are settled and happy. He and Ian still fuck-up regularly with parenting, and they bicker like old women, but mostly they stick to a routine, work hard, and enjoy their simple life. 

Terry was locked up six months ago and those six months have been the best of his life. Just knowing that Terry wasn’t getting out anytime soon had allowed him to relax. To breathe. The business had gone from strength to strength. Who would have thought you could make so much money selling sex toys? Lots of kinky motherfuckers out there. They had just expanded, renting a small factory to set up a warehouse and office. They had been storing stock at their house and the Gallagher’s, but when Frank found their stock, he tried to steal it and sell it on the street. Fucking Frank! But it was the push they needed, and so far it was paying off. They had hired two people to help with packing and posting; the hours getting too long for him and Sandy to manage alone. He couldn’t believe how much money he was making legally. 

One of the best days had been Yev’s seventh birthday. Ian had planned a party—a dinosaur themed party no less—and Yev had the best fucking time. The house was overflowing with family and Yev’s friends from school. Mickey just sat in the corner with his beer and watched it all happen. Ian had all the help he needed from Debbie, Sandy, Teagan and Megan. At one-point Ian had come up to him, worried he was unhappy with all the noise and people. He told him the truth; he just wanted to remember it all. Every fucking second.

Yev was eating his food so fast he was barely chewing it before swallowing. 

“Yev, take a breather - where’s the fire?” he asked his son.

Talking with his mouth full, Yev replied, “Daddy said we can facetime Aunt Mandy and see Lucas after lunch.”

Ian laughed, “Yev, slow down. I have to finish my lunch too.”

Little Lucas was almost four weeks old and Yev was desperate to meet his cousin. They had planned a trip to New York for next month when Yev would be on school holidays. Mickey was keen to see Mandy and meet Lucas too. The little baby had the Milkovich black hair and blue eyes and Mandy said he was taking after his uncle because he was always grumpy about something. Fucking bitch. God, he loved his sister.

After the hilarious facetime call - where Mandy had pulled her tit out and started feeding Lucas in front of them - Ian covering Yev’s eyes and him being disgusted on so many levels—had ended, they got back to work packing boxes. Next weekend they were moving again, Brad and Simon wanting to return home a little earlier than they expected, but what could they do? They were sub-letting. With their combined wages they could rent a nice three-bedroom place in a neighbourhood where all the houses had been renovated. It was still Southside, but it was safer for Yev. They even had a savings account, putting away money each week, hoping to buy their own house in the next couple of years. It was within their reach—who would have fucking thought!

They were in the kitchen packing up all the stuff they didn’t use every day. They both had a busy week coming up, so they were packing everything they could today. Yev was sitting at the kitchen table drawing dinosaurs and superheros. 

“Ian, you rearrange your Thursday shift ok?” he asked, as he pulled stuff out from the back of a cupboard.

“Yeah, told you it would be ok. Half of them want to come,” Ian replied.

Yev looked up from his drawing, “Come to what?”

“Your adoption. Did you forget again? It’s on Thursday, you get the day off school,” Ian replied, ruffling Yev’s hair.

“Oh yeah, awesome. Can Clara come?” Yev asked, eyes wide and eyebrows up in his hairline.

Mickey laughed, his son had it so bad. Poor bastard, he knew the feeling. “Maybe, we’ll ask Teagan and see. No promises,” he said.

By the time they made it upstairs to pack Yev’s things, Mickey could see Ian was deep in thought. When his husband sat down on the bed and stared at the wall, he moved in front of him and tilted his head up. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Mickey took a seat next to Ian and waited for him to answer.

“Been thinking I’d like to go back to school part-time and train as a paramedic. Feel like I’ve got all I can get out of being an EMT and want to step up to the next level. What do you think? Would be a lot of extra hours for a while.”

He smiled at Ian, then leant in to place a kiss on his cheek. “You should do it if it’s what you want. Since Sandy and I hired those two employees I’ve been able to cut back on my hours, so we can manage it.” 

“Thanks Mick. Love you.” Ian planted a kiss on his lips.

“Yeah, don’t mind you either,” he teased as he stood up - getting his ass smacked.

*

Mickey was waiting on the couch for Ian to join him for a movie. He was tired from packing all day, but they always watched a movie on Sunday nights - well at least half a movie, depending on how long it took them to get handsy. Ian finally descended the stairs.

“Fuck, how many books did you read tonight?”

Ian plopped down on the sofa and threw his legs on top of him. “He got this joke book from the school library and was reading me jokes. He thought they were hilarious.”

“Must take after you Gallagher, with the lame ass jokes.”

“Fuck you,” Ian said, shaking his head and smiling. 

“Fuckin’ better. Been waiting all day.” He was just about to palm Ian’s cock when his cell buzzed. Seeing it was Iggy, he picked it up. “Yeah, what’s up?” he answered.

“Hey Mick…umm…I got some news today. Not sure if you knew, so I thought I better call.”

“Well fuckin’ spit it out, dipshit,” he snarked. He hardly ever spoke to Iggy anymore.

“Pops is dead. Got shanked.”

“You fuckin’ serious?” He pushed Ian’s legs off him and sat up straight.

“Yeah, the funeral’s gonna be on Thursday. I can text you the details.”

Ian was mouthing ‘what is it?’ and looking more and more concerned by the second.

“Yeah Iggs, don’t bother, won’t be there. Does Mandy know?” he asked.

“Don’t think so.”

“Ok, let me tell her. Thanks for…you know…letting me know.”

“Mick, wait. I just want you to know that I think you did the right thing. Maybe we can catch up for a beer sometime?”

He paused for a moment. “Yeah Iggs, yeah, that would be good man. I’ve got your number.”

He put the phone down, wondering when he would feel something. 

“Mick, what the fuck is it?” Ian asked, panic on his face.

“Terry’s dead.”

“Shit, you fucking serious? What happened?”

“Motherfucker got shanked.”

“Fuck Mick. You ok?”

He could see Ian struggling with his own emotions, trying to hold off until he knew how Mickey felt. Trouble was, he wasn’t sure how he felt. He didn’t feel sad, didn’t feel happy, didn’t feel shit. “Hey, I gotta call Mandy. Get us some beers and I’ll meet you out back.”

Ian understood and gave him some privacy while he told his sister. The call was brief, neither of them knowing what to say, what to feel. Mandy wouldn’t attend the funeral either. He grabbed his smokes and lighter off the coffee table and headed out the back to Ian. They loved that porch; they’d had a lot of great talks out there - he would miss it. He sat down next to Ian, taking the beer being passed to him.

He took a few swigs from the bottle and placed it down beside him before lighting up a cigarette. “How do you feel about it?” he asked Ian.

“Does it matter how I feel?”

“Course it fuckin’ matters, you’ve put up with his shit for ten years, he nearly fuckin’ killed you.” He passed the cigarette to Ian and tried to get a read on where he was at.

“Well…I’m fucking happy. Didn’t fancy moving to another state in twenty years.” Ian turned and smiled at him before getting serious again. “I just want you to be ok with it. He was still your dad, Mick. When’s the funeral? We going?”

“Funeral’s on Thursday and you’re adopting Yev. Doesn’t matter anyway, I wouldn’t have gone.”

They were quiet for a while, drinking their beers, content to be in their own thoughts.

“You think someone took him out?” he asked, lighting up a second smoke.

“What, you mean like a hit?” Ian replied, looking away.

“That’s exactly what I mean. Hey, look at me,” he said, bumping his knee against Ian’s.

Ian turned and looked at him with a frown on his face.

“Ian, you didn’t fuckin’ do anything stupid did you?”

“No, I fucking didn’t do anything. Why the fuck you asking that? You…didn’t, did you?” Ian accused.

“Fuck no!”

“Mick, we’re not doing this shit again. Look at the trouble it got us in last time.”

“Ian, I swear, I didn’t do it,” he said, holding his arms up in surrender.

“Well neither did I!” Ian said, leaning forward to get his point across. “But I’d sure like to buy the guy that did a drink.”

“I’ll fuckin’ drink to that,” he said, clinking his bottle with Ian’s then finishing the last of it. “Ian…I’m good.” He grabbed Ian by the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He moved onto Ian’s lap, his husband knowing what he wanted. He had all the family he needed.

*****

The adoption process had been a simple one, with them being married and Svetlana dead. Today was the last official step in the family court. It was very relaxed, with Judge Silverman sitting at a table opposite them as she took them through the legal steps. All their family members were there to watch, and Teagan and Megan brought Clara. 

Ian felt incredibly emotional. Memories of Yev as a little baby - when they were living together as a family the first time around—kept flooding his thoughts. He was regretting the lost years but also so very fucking grateful to have this second chance. He’d always dreamed of having a family with Mickey and now it would be official. Looking across at Mickey, he found his husband was already watching him, the love pouring off him. They smiled at each other and reached out to hold hands behind Yev, who was seated between them.

“Mikhailo, as Yevgeny’s father, is it your wish that your husband, Ian, legally adopt your son thus granting him equal parenting rights under the law?” Judge Silverman asked.

“Yes, it is,” Mickey replied.

The Judge turned to him next, “Ian, do you wish to adopt Yevgeny because you love him and will commit to the parent/child relationship until he is of age?”

“Yes, I do and I will,” he replied, smiling at Yev and Mickey.

The Judge then looked to Yev, “Yevgeny, would you like Ian to adopt you and be your father?”

“Yup. Ian is already my Daddy,” Yev answered, reaching out to grab his hand, “and this is my Papa,” Yev continued, taking Mickey’s hand. 

Ian could hear the ‘ahh’s’ behind them, his own eyes filling up with tears. The Judge signed the adoption order, as did he and Mickey. 

“I hereby declare you are now parent and child under the law, with all the rights and duties of the parent/child relationship. Congratulations, you make a beautiful family. Now let’s get some photos,” the Judge said, standing up and shaking his and Mickey’s hands.

The Gallagher’s were cheering loudly as Ian picked Yev up and held him in his arms. 

“Why are you crying Daddy? Aren’t you happy” Yev asked, brushing the tears off his cheeks.

He laughed, “I’m so happy Yev. And when you’re really, really happy, sometimes you cry. See, Papa is crying too.” Mickey wrapped them up in one big group hug until they got themselves together. 

After they took photos with everybody he leant over to Mickey and connected their lips. “Do you have any idea how happy you’ve made me?” he whispered.

“You can thank me later if you like,” Mickey said, cocking one eyebrow and squeezing his ass. He didn’t know when his husband became so comfortable with PDA’s, but he wasn’t complaining. They thanked everyone for coming and said their goodbyes and then it was just the three of them.

“What do you wanna do now?” Mickey asked. “We’ve got the rest of the day free.”

“I was thinking we should go to Sizzlers and eat ourselves into a food coma,” he replied, locking eyes with his husband.

“Yay Papa, let’s go to Sizzler. Can we, can we?” Yev asked, jumping up and down between them. Yev didn’t know what Sizzler meant to his two fathers. 

“You finally taking me on that date Gallagher?” Mickey asked with a smirk.

“Was thinking it was about time.”

“Think we’re doing it ass backwards—married with a kid before the first date.”

“Pretty sure every time we did it ass backwards it was kind of a date,” he teased.

Mickey laughed hard, shaking his head in disbelief. “Only you, Firecrotch, could think doing it in the freezer at the ‘Kash and Grab’ was a date.”

Ian and Mickey headed out of the courthouse, Yev between them, holding his father’s hands. Neither of them realised that at the precise moment they lifted a giggling Yev up into the air, close by in a cold cemetery, Terry Milkovich was being lowered into the ground.

*

Later that night, when Yev was asleep, they locked themselves in their room and smoked a couple of top-quality joints. Ian knew Mickey was doing ok with Terry’s death, but it was also clear that the funeral was on his mind, so getting high was a pleasant way to end the day. By the time he was about to take the last hit, he was straddling a naked Mickey, his husband's hard cock sliding between his butt cheeks. Inhaling the joint, he leant forward and exhaled into Mickey’s mouth. His husband giggled, then swiped his tongue out and licked Ian’s lips. 

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful Ian,” Mickey said, then grabbed his hips, encouraging him to rock down harder onto his cock.

“You’re fucking soft as shit these days Mick,” he said, butting out the joint.

“What, you don’t like it?” Mickey said, pinching his nipple hard.

“Ow, you fucker! Course I like it,” he said, pinning Mickey’s hands above his head. “Tonight, I wanna fuck you real slow.” 

“So get to it,” Mickey said, before licking into his mouth slowly. He captured Mickey’s tongue, sucking on it, eliciting the moan he was looking for.

He leisurely prepped Mickey, sucking his cock as he fingered him open. The way Mickey rocked his pelvis up and down seeking the pleasure from both his mouth and fingers kept his own cock hard and leaking. “How you want it?” he asked as he pulled his fingers out.

“Spoon me, I love that shit,” Mickey replied, looking blissed out.

Ian positioned himself behind his husband and lifted Mickey’s leg to get a good look at that ass. He rubbed the head of his cock against Mickey’s hole, teasing a little. “Tell me you want me,” he whispered in his ear.

Mickey tilted his head back to look at him, “Always want you.”

Ian pushed in as they kissed, wet, slow, soft lips and swirling tongues, moans that came from a long-lasting deep desire. Ten years and he still wanted Mickey as much as he did that first time. Except now it was so much better, because his heart wanted him as much as his body did. “I love you like this Mick. All open for me.” Sucking a hickey into Mickey’s neck, he felt intoxicated by his husband’s tight heat. 

“I used to fantasize about you fuckin’ me slow when we first started hooking up,” Mickey confessed, as he stroked his own cock.

“Yeah, what else you used to fantasize about?” he asked threading their fingers together, wedding bands clicking against each other.

“Kissing you…and I wanted to watch you cum...ahhh fuck,” Mickey moaned, as Ian changed his angle to hit that sweet spot inside his husband. “We always did it from behind so you couldn’t see..” Mickey was panting hard as Ian picked up the pace, releasing Mickey’s hand so he could grab at his hip.

“Couldn’t see what Mick?” he asked, grunting now with each thrust.

“See how much I wanted you.”

Ian pulled out, pushed Mickey onto his back and re-entered him, thrusting slow and deep again. “I can see it now,” he said, laying over his husband and brushing the hair off his forehead.

“Fuck I love you Ian,” Mickey said, reaching up to touch Ian’s face. Mickey started spurting hot between them, curses and moans falling from his lips. 

“You’re so fucking sexy when you cum Mick,” he said, as he tried to bury himself further inside. 

“Cum on me Firecrotch, show me, let me watch,” Mickey said, still in his orgasm euphoria.

He pulled out and pumped his cock hard and fast. His orgasm hit suddenly, pulsing long and deep as he came all over Mickey’s cock and stomach. Mickey was watching him with uninhibited desire, biting down hard on his lip, eyes flicking between his face and cock.

They kissed each other with goofy grins, then cleaned up and climbed in under the blankets. He put his arm around Mickey, and Mickey settled with his head on his chest and a leg thrown over his hip.

Mickey started giggling again, still high. “Shit I’m so fuckin’ gay Ian. If Terry saw that, he must have been turning in his fucking grave.” Mickey erupted into a full belly laugh, the sound vibrating through his chest.

“He’s lucky we weren’t fucking _on_ his grave,” he replied, smiling down at his beautiful husband, who was free as a fucking bird. 

“What are you doing Saturday night?” Mickey asked, looking up at him with a grin on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe there is only one chapter to go! I'm aiming for Thursday at this stage (maybe Tuesday depending on work)  
> I am excited for the last chapter - think you are all really going to like it!!!  
> Comments and Kudos appreciated!!!!!!  
> Thanks for reading,  
> Rachael


	16. Yevy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yev is about to turn 16 when his life gets turned upside down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic started because of Yev and it's only fitting that it ends with us hearing from him.  
> Don't worry - Mickey and Ian are in here too!!   
> I hope I make you cry some happy tears!! Or at least get really sentimental!   
> Please read notes at the end.

Yev had gotten up at 6am, the conversation he overheard replaying over and over in his head throughout the night. He couldn’t have gotten more than a few hours’ sleep, broken up into short blocks of time. His head hurt like a motherfucker. It was a Saturday, nearly 8am now, and he wondered if it was too early to call Clara. He picked up his cell and sent her a text.

(7.58am) **Yev:** Babe, you awake? Need to see you, it’s important xx

(8.01am) **Clara:** Better be important and not about your 16th b’day party like last time!! x

(8.02am) **Yev:** Leaving now, be there soon xx

Yev grabbed his backpack, flung it over his shoulder and shoved his cell into his pocket. He crept down the hall, hoping his parents were still asleep, freezing when he heard the moans. Shit! Were they ever _not_ fucking? He took a large step, trying to avoid that one squeaky floorboard that had hung him out to dry so many times when he was sneaking in or out of the house. Breathing a sigh of relief at his success, he continued down the stairs and out the front door.

As he sat on the train heading from the Northside to the Southside, he tried to calm himself. Clara would have good advice and help him think it through. He’d fallen so fucking in love with her this past year. A smile crept onto his face just thinking about her. Clara had been by his side as long as he could remember, and he’d always loved her, but by the time they were fourteen things changed. For a while he was a fumbling mess, getting hard if he smelt her, or brushed his arm against hers, or just looked into her eyes for a beat too long. It had been so fucking embarrassing. 

Perhaps because he and Clara had always had sleepovers, they continued to have them into their teens. A year ago, on his 15th birthday, Clara had stayed over after his party. He had been determined to tell her how he felt when she lunged forward and kissed him first. If he ever had any doubt about being in love with her, he didn’t after that kiss. Two days later they both got ‘the talk’ from their parents, left wondering how they knew something had changed between them. And changed it had. Clara wanted to take things slow and so they did. But now they were together, like really together, and his body ached for her. Every night they were apart was fucking torture.

Having two dads had never bothered him, and with Clara having two moms, growing up with gay parents seemed perfectly normal. It was perfectly normal, of course, and he’d been suspended from school once or twice for making sure everyone else knew it too. His Dads were great parents, even though he wasn’t going to tell them anytime soon. His childhood had been filled with love, and they had encouraged him to work hard for what he wanted. 

Pops was a grumpy asshole sometimes, but Dad always knew how to calm him down. Their fights were just bickering mostly, and funny as shit to watch. Every fight ended the same way—the two of them fucking each other senseless (you could hear them from anywhere in the house), then soft as shit afterwards. He’d never seen two people look at each other the way they did. They were possessive and over-protective. There seemed to be some underlying, instinctive drive behind it, but he did not understand where it came from. When he tried to describe the way they loved each other, the only word that came to mind was fiercely. He wanted that for himself and hoped that he and Clara could love each other like that too. 

Pops ran a successful online store selling LGBT sex toys. Clara knew about it, but he lied to everyone else saying it was an online sports store. One day when he was at the warehouse—he was about eleven - he stumbled upon a box of sample products. He was shocked to say the least. How they had kept it a secret was beyond him, but the look on Pop’s face when he held up a giant dildo was still imprinted on his mind to this day.

Dad was a paramedic, and he loved his job. Pops made a lot of money and sometimes when Dad’s mental health wasn’t so good Pops would beg him to cut back on his work hours. Dad never did. On the occasions Dad had a manic or depressive episode, he saw Pops unravel just that little bit. Pops always kept it together, but you could feel the fear as he went about caring for his Dad. As a little kid the depressive episodes scared him the most, perhaps the death of his Mom having placed a fear of loss deep in his gut. 

A drunk dude started singing at the other end of the carriage, pulling him out of his thoughts. After getting off the train, he made his way to Clara’s house, wondering if he would get a car for his sixteenth birthday next week. He had money saved from his part-time job, but it wasn’t enough. He texted Clara that he was out the front, not ringing the bell, in case Teagan and Megan were still in bed. Thirty seconds later, Clara pulled him in the front door and they made their way to her room, closing the door behind them.

He pressed her back against the door, his hands at her waist. Clara had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen -warm brown with flecks of green. She threaded her arms around his neck and pressed their bodies together. 

“I missed you,” he said, then leant down to kiss her gently. 

“I missed you too,” she replied. She pushed him over to the bed and they sat down facing each other. “Looks like I should have been there last night. So tell me what happened?”

Clara would normally be with him on a Friday night, but she had been at a rehearsal for the school musical. Friday’s were Gallagher family dinner nights—at one of his aunts or uncles’ places. Last night the dinner had been at their place. He tried to gather his thoughts so he could explain what happened.

“Dad and Uncle Lip were outside on the back porch having a smoke after dinner. Aunt Tami asked me to take out a couple of beers to them, but when I went to open the back door I heard my name, so I stopped to listen. I thought it was about getting a car for my birthday. Anyway, Uncle Lip said something like, ‘Mickey turned out to be such a good father to Yev. He’s got my respect.’” Yev paused, trying to remember how the next part was worded. “Then he said, ‘there’s no way I could have raised a kid born under those circumstances.’ What the fuck do you think that means?” he asked Clara, joining their hands together before continuing again, “What circumstances was I born under that would make him say that?” 

Clara was frowning, mouth pulled tight in confusion. “I don’t know. It makes no sense. Must be something to do with how your Mom and Dad split up, maybe? We’ve never talked about it—what do you know about your Mom and how they ended up divorced? I mean your Dad’s gay, right? He’s not bi, is he?”

“He’s definitely gay. Think maybe he was confused back then. I don’t really know shit. They’ve both kinda just avoided it whenever I’ve asked. Pops just said it didn’t work out with my Mom and she got married to someone else. I know I didn’t see Pops when I was little cos he was in prison. I didn’t even know who he was when they took me to his house after Mom died. I was six. I met you a few days later, remember?”

Yev fell back onto the bed. Something about it just didn’t sit right. His gut was telling him his entire family was keeping something from him and he didn’t fucking like it. Clara laid down next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“You know you should just ask them,” Clara said.

“I know. But something else has been bugging me for a while. A few months ago I found some photos Dad had gotten printed. I’d seen some of them before when I was little. They were of me as a baby—one with Pops and a few with Dad, and then there was one with me, Mom and Dad and another one with Dad, Pops and Mom. They were all taken in the same house from what I could see. I don’t know why I’d never thought about it before, but was Dad living with Pops and my Mom when they were married? And does that mean Dad and Pops were together when Pops was married to my Mom?”

Clara sat up and looked down at him, eyes wide, “Oh fuck, do you think your Dads were having an affair under your Mom’s nose?”

He sat up. “I don’t know, but apparently no normal dude would want to raise a kid born under whatever fucking circumstances I was born under! And it sure as shit looks like my dads were together when I was a baby. I mean I knew they were together when they were our age, I just assumed they split up and that’s when Pops married my Mom.” Yev felt more confused than ever. Why had he never questioned this before? 

“Talk to them. It will eat you up if you don’t. You want me to be there with you?”

“Nah, I think I’ve got to do this on my own. I’ll be back at seven for dinner like we planned.”

“Ok, call me if you need me.”

“I will.” He kissed her, then held her in a hug for a few seconds before he headed back home.

*

By the time he arrived home he had psyched himself up for a confrontation. He wasn’t taking no for an answer. He was getting the truth if it fucking killed him. He found Dad in the kitchen making himself a coffee. 

“I need to speak to you and Pops and it’s really important,” he blurted out, his heart already racing in anticipation.

His Dad frowned at him, “What the fuck have you done?”

“I haven’t done anything. Where’s Pops?”

“He’s in his office doing some paperwork.”

Yev was already heading to the office. “Pops, I need to speak to you and Dad together and I want to do it now. It’s important.”

They settled in the living room. 

“You knocked her up, didn’t you?” Pops said, a disappointed look on his face.

“No, I didn’t knock her up. And that’s pretty fucking rich coming from a guy that had a kid at 19!”

“Hey Yev, calm down,” Dad said, trying to stop it escalating.

“I want to know about…fuck…I want to know about you and Mom,” he said, looking at Pops.

His Dads looked at each other, fear and concern on their faces. He could see them having one of their silent conversations which always pissed him off. 

Pops finally replied, “What’s to know? We got married because she was knocked up. After I went to prison, we got a divorce, and she remarried.”

Yev stood up and started pacing the room, his anger building. “Well that’s another fucking thing - why haven’t you explained why you were put in jail? You know what? Forget it, that’s for another day.” He stopped and looked at his Dad. “I heard you and Uncle Lip last night. I heard what he said about me and Pops.”

All three of them stilled. The room was quiet. Pops looked down at the floor and rubbed his brow, before turning to face Dad. “Ian, what the fuck did Lip say?” 

“He just said you were a great Dad.”

Yev interjected straight away, “And the rest! Uncle Lip said, ‘there’s no way I could have raised a kid born under _those_ circumstances.’ What were the fucking circumstances? What have you two been hiding from me all these years? Why are there photos of you two and me and my Mom all in the same house? Were you cheating on Mom with Dad when you were still married?” he shouted at his Pops.

Dad stood up, “Sit down Yev and let Pops think for a second.” Yev let his Dad usher him back to the sofa, his chest heaving. 

He watched Pops battle something. Something he needed to understand. He got a hold of his temper and spoke quietly, “Pops? I want to know why you wouldn’t want me?” 

Pops turned to look at Dad, “I’m gonna tell him and hope I’m not making the biggest fuckin’ mistake.” Dad took Pop’s hand and kissed the back of it. “Before I start, I want you to remember that we both love you and that your Mom loved you too. She was a good Mom - she only wanted the best life for you.”

“Ok,” he replied, then sat back and waited.

“Your grandfather, my dad—Terry - who died when you were seven, was the biggest fuckin’ homophobe on the Southside. When I was a teenager, I had to hide that I was gay. I knew if he found out he would beat the shit out of me or kill me. Me and Ian were seeing each other in secret for a couple of years when Terry and my brothers all went out of town for the weekend. Ian came over to stay the night and the next day Terry came home early and caught us. He beat the shit out of both of us.”

Yev didn’t know what to say. He had heard the name Terry before and this grandfather of his died when he was seven. How come he didn’t remember that? His Dad kissed Pops on the cheek, then nodded his head to give some encouragement.

His Pops continued, “Your Mom was called over to have sex with me, you know, to turn me straight.”

“What the fuck!? Why did she agree to do that? Why did you do it?” he asked, getting wound up again.

“Ian, can you? I fuckin’ can’t,” Pops said, eyes welling up with tears.

Dad looked at them both before continuing with the story, “Yev, this will be hard to hear. Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I deserve to know. I’m not a kid anymore.”

“There’s no easy way to say this. Your Mom was a victim too. Her own Dad sold her for $300 and sent her here to America as a prostitute. You want me to keep going?’

Yev nodded, his heart sinking as he thought about his Mom, the few memories he still had of her, that he clung to.

“Terry held a gun over us. Your Pops had no choice Yev. You were the result of that day.”

He felt numb as he tried to piece it all together. His Mom was a prostitute. He had so many questions flying around his head. He felt fucking sick, like he would vomit. “Am I like the product of a...of a…rape? And Dad, you watched this?”

Pops had his head in his hands, looking at the floor.

“He had a gun on us,” Dad explained. “I was 16 and Pops was 18. Your Mom did nothing wrong, she had no choice either. Pops did what he had to; he was trying to protect me. And yes, I sat there and watched, and I’ve had to live with the shame of that.”

Yev sat forward in his seat, “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that you had to watch the person you love have that done to them and you couldn’t do anything. I don’t blame you Dad.” Yev turned his attention to Pops, “But why did you get married, Pops? Why did you take me in when I was six?”

Pops finally lifted his head. “I was forced to marry your Mom, and I didn’t want to, and I didn’t want you either, at first. Dad ran off for a while and that’s when he developed bipolar. When he came back, Terry was in prison, so we got back together. I wasn’t looking after you. Eventually I came out - including to Terry - who beat the shit out of me again, but that put him back in prison. After that, things got better. We all lived together, and we made it work. Dad always loved you from day one, but it took me time to realise you were innocent and didn’t deserve any of that shit. It was a shock when your Mom died, and they brought you to us. But we were married then, and we were ready to be Dads. We were glad for the second chance.” Pops looked at him, sad and unsure.

He still had so many questions, but he was exhausted. God only knows what he thought they were going to tell him, but it wasn’t this. He needed time to think, to process it. He looked at his Dads. He had made them relive it and it showed on their faces. He stood up. He needed to be alone. “Pops, Dad, I need to think—it’s a lot to take in. I’m gonna go to my room for a while. I’m not mad, I promise. I love you both.” He slipped out of the room, glancing back to see Dad take Pops into his arms.

*****

Mickey was shocked. He wanted to be mad at Lip, or maybe even at Ian for discussing it with Lip, but he was too shocked. It had been a long time since he and Ian had discussed it—and they had discussed it quite a few times after Terry died—but they had moved past it, even knowing that Yev may some day have questions. But Yev finding out the _details_ of his conception was never on the cards. 

Ian was holding him, one hand cradling his head and the other stroking up and down his back. Fuck! Should he have lied? When Yev confronted them, he couldn’t think of a single reason why a man wouldn’t want to raise his son other than the child wasn’t his - and Yev was clearly his. They looked so much alike now that Yev was nearly a man. They were similar in height, same colour eyes, same nose and lips. Yev didn’t have the black hair, but he had his expressive face.

“Mickey, let’s go have a lie down on the bed too,” Ian said, releasing him from the hug and leading him upstairs to their bedroom. They laid down on the bed facing each other. “Mick, I’m sorry. Lip just started talking about how hard it is to be a good parent and then brought you up. I told him the basics of what happened a long time ago, before you married Svet. He's never violated my trust, and he didn’t mean to.”

He reached out and brushed his thumb across Ian’s cheek. “I get it. And what’s done is done. I’m not mad, I just never saw this coming. Do you think Yev will be ok? Is he going to hate us?”

“I don’t think so. He’ll think it through. I just hope we didn’t ruin the memory of his Mom.”

*****

Yev was laying out on his bed, his thoughts drowning him. He contemplated calling Clara but wasn’t ready to explain it. Perhaps it wasn’t right to tell Clara the whole story, anyway? The only thing he knew for sure was that he needed to ask a lot more questions. Yev had done what most kids do - only saw his parents as one dimensional, only as parents, never realising they had lives long before he existed. Maybe he was growing up. Pops and Dad had experienced a lot of shit, and when they were as young as he was right now. He was the same age as Dad had been when the - shit, he didn’t even want to think it - the rape had happened. For a moment, his mind imagined having to watch Clara being raped at gun point, before shutting it down. 

And his Mom! His Mom had been sold into prostitution and then that happened to her. He cried, not for himself but for all of them—Pops, Dad, and his Mom—who had survived this and had kept him. Not aborted, not adopted, but kept him and loved him. Yev sat up and wiped away his tears. He had a newfound admiration for his two Dads, and he realised he wanted to know who they really were. All of it. The good, the bad and the ugly. He wanted to know about this Terry - who he would fucking kill if he was still alive - and he wanted to know what it was like when they had to keep their love a secret, and why his Pops had gone to prison. 

*****

They had stayed on the bed talking quietly for a good hour. Ian knew Mickey was scared something had been broken between them and Yev. Ian didn’t think so. Yev was a nurturer and protector like Mickey, and fiercely loyal too. Sure, Yev had done his fair share of rebelling the last couple of years as all teenagers do, but he always came to them when he had a problem or got himself in trouble. To Ian, that showed the depth of their bond. 

The years had been good to them. Now in their mid-thirties, they had a beautiful house on the Northside and a life without constant drama and stress. He still loved Mickey with every ounce of his being after nearly twenty years together. They teased each other about becoming ‘soft bitches’ but were secretly glad for it. 

He pressed his thigh between Mickey’s legs. “You know it’s our ten-year wedding anniversary next month.”

“Guess you want to do something gay to celebrate,” Mickey teased, as he grabbed hold of Ian’s ass.

“So do you,” he said, then kissed Mickey just under his earlobe.

“Actually, I’ve been thinking about us having another kid. Think we should do it.”

Ian pulled back to get a look at Mickey’s face and see if he was serious. They had been throwing around the idea of IVF for the past year or two. “You serious?”

“Yeah. Teagan’s still happy to be the surrogate and we can afford an egg donor and a couple of rounds of IVF. It’s what you want, isn’t it?” Mickey asked, studying him.

“I do. They can mix our sperm together and see who has the fastest swimmers,” he said, smiling down at Mickey.

“Nah man. This one’s gotta be yours. I want that for you. And I want a little ginger running around. Wouldn’t mind a little girl.”

Ian laughed, “You can’t choose Mick, it's whatever we get.”

“I know and I’ll be happy with whatever we get.”

He started peppering kisses all over Mickey as he spoke, “Love…you…so…fucking…much.”

“Love you too. Now fucking get on me, I need it,” Mickey said, as he pulled Ian’s lips to his.

*****

Yev was still in his room, but sleep was calling him, after having had so little sleep the night before and being emotionally drained. Then he heard it, the moans and the ‘oh right there’ and the ‘oh fuck you feel so good.’ He pulled the pillow over his head, trying to muffle the sounds. Then he burst out laughing. It felt good to laugh. Reaching over to his nightstand, he grabbed his headphones and put them on; music soft enough to fall asleep to and loud enough to drown out the sex. He got it. It was how they communicated with each other when words weren’t enough. Yev was relieved. They were ok, and they were looking after each other. He took his much-needed nap.

Yev slept the sleep of the dead and woke up hours later, the evening fast approaching. He got up and made his way downstairs, hearing his Dad’s voices in the kitchen. Stopping in the living room, he watched them for a minute. They were still in their ‘soft as shit’ post sex phase. Pops was feeding Dad strawberries dipped in cream. Dad was licking and sucking the cream off Pop’s fingers like they were about to start a fucking porno. Pops was fucking giggling. Yev shook his head and rolled his eyes. They were embarrassing as all fuck sometimes. He cleared his throat loudly as he entered the kitchen. 

“Hey bud, how you feeling? You want to talk?” Pops asked, looking at him nervously.

Yev decided the fastest way to end their fears was to hug them. He held them tight for as long as they each needed, then they settled at the kitchen table. “I want you both to know…” he paused, realising he was going to cry. “I only love you more, knowing what happened.” He had tears falling down his cheeks, but he pushed on, “I want to know more about what happened. I have lots of questions. About how you two met and how you found your way back to each other and about my fucking asshole grandfather.”

Yev had reduced both his Dads to tears. They found themselves in a group hug in the middle of their kitchen on a Saturday afternoon. Yev grew up that day. His innocence may have been lost, but what he gained was a deep appreciation for who his Dads were. Who Ian and Mickey were. And he admired and respected the fuck out of them. 

*

Yev didn’t tell Clara everything, just enough for her to understand what he was going through. Maybe someday, if they made it, he would. He stayed over at her house that night and he did something he had been wanting to do for a while. He told her he loved her. Not the casual ones he had thrown around since they were little kids in the sandpit. No, a real one, where he looked into her eyes and held her in his arms. If his Dad’s had taught him one thing that day it was that if you find love, don’t shy away from it, or guard yourself from it. He could see it so clearly when he watched them together, that - ride or die, all in, you’re it for me - love. Every time they had lost each other, every tragedy, and every challenge had bound them tighter together. He now understood why they loved each other so fiercely. 

*

The next morning Yev arrived home at about 11am. As he climbed the stairs, he heard music playing in his parents’ room—which was unusual. It was an old song, by that dude Ted? Ed? Ed Sheeran, maybe? Perfect? Was that what it was called? He wasn’t sure. He crept down the hall, finding the door slightly ajar. They were slow dancing in their boxers, arms wrapped around each other. As they slowly rotated, he could see their eyes were closed, in their own private world, and so in love. 

Not wanting to intrude anymore, he crept down the hall to his own room, smiling to himself and feeling so fucking grateful.

**EPILOGUE…**

It took two attempts at IVF before Teagan was carrying their child. When the day came, Mickey was both excited and terrified at the prospect of being a parent again. But when the nurse placed their little red-haired baby girl into Ian’s arms, he felt only love. Tears welled up in Ian’s eyes and then spilled softly down his cheeks. Mickey watched as his husband’s gaze remained locked on their daughter, words failing him. When Ian looked up at him they needed no words. He leant over and placed a kiss on their daughter’s forehead and then one to his husband’s lips. Memories of a sweet freckle-faced red-haired boy standing outside the ‘Kash and Grab’ flashed through his mind. Best choice he ever made. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** A huge thank you to all the readers that have been on this journey with me. Thank you for the kudos and the comments!!   
> We never know what's really going on in each other's lives and the struggles someone might be facing. The kind words and compliments really do make my day!! And hearing that I have made someone happy, or entertained them, or made them feel something is why I have kept at it. So thank you for reading and supporting me while I try and improve my writing.
> 
> ** I am going to get back to work on 'Dance Partners' - I hope you will join me on that one too - it holds a special place in my heart and I am looking forward to finishing it over the next few weeks.
> 
> Take care,  
> Rachael


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